Altair and Ezio's Exciting Nights Out
by WhiteWolf535
Summary: The new Mentor, Ezio finds it frustrating to run the Creed without his previous freedoms. When his irritable Arabian gets in a fight, his idea of "punishment" leads them into a very interesting adventure around the great city of Rome.Rough lemons.yaoi.etc
1. Chapter 1: The First Night of Many

**Read This First!**

Ok so I'll just skip the blahing and go right to the **important** stuff!

This story is based in Assassin's Creed Brotherhood (which is sadly not owned by my FYI) where Ezio has been declarred Mentor and blah blah blah. You should all know that Ezio is oooold(ish) in that game sooooo to make this story all the more attractive, I made it so Ezio is young, hawt, and cleanly shaven! :D NO HIDIOUS BEARD! YAY!

Sorry for all of you beard fans... ok! that's pretty much it! Ezio is back in his 20's and Altair is the same age as he is in his game sooo probly about the same as Ezio's I think (is too lazy to look it up in the game guide thingy)

Alright get reading!

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The large hideout for all assassins shines in a warm light. Halls lined with bright red tapestries adorned with the gold symbol of the Assassins Creed stretch from room to room, warmed by the blazing torches hanging from the walls. Each area is dedicated to some part of the Brotherhood, whether it holds the devoted weapons and armor of the assassins to painting of their slain enemies, reminding each member of their cause. In one room in particular, all of the members, about 20 men and women in total, all dressed in shades of white or grey, face the end of the room where one man stands alone atop a raised platform.

His brown eyes scan the crowd before him, resting on one figure in particular; a man leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, wearing robs a clear white but in a style completely different from everyone else. Stormy grey eyes flicker from underneath the hood covering his head, meeting the brown. The man at the front of the room smiles before speaking loudly so everyone can hear him, "We have a long way before we liberate Roma! All of you have worked hard, training, growing…" His insightful eyes rest on one small group of assassins, clothed in all white indicating a high rank. He smiles to his proud students before continuing, "But we have more work to be done. So, without farther delay, I'll encourage all of you to work together on their new assignments today."

Ezio Auditore, The Mentor, dressed in red and white robes, paces where he stands, black and red cape flowing behind him. He assigns the separate ranks of assassins to missions according to their level of skills. When only the Recluta, or the rookies, and Assassino ranked assassins are left, he turns toward the two small groups. He points to the highest rank assassins and demands, "four of you are to go to Paris where you will assassinate a pesky general trying to regroup his troops. Be vigilant as always and work together." The group bows to him before dispersing, leaving only one left. The leader of all assassins turns and smiles lightly at the new recruits who are shuffling on their feet, watching their superiors with awe. He sucks in a breath, about to address the last high ranking assassin but then a movement draws his attention.

The man against the wall lifts a hand to his mouth, yawning; somehow striking interest Ezio. The master Italian looks back to his veteran apprentice and speaks with the authority of a leader, "you are to take an easier, more tedious and time consuming mission to learn from the mistakes you made last time." The apprentice, a young man around Ezio's age of early to mid-twenties, opens his mouth to protest but Ezio lifts a hand, silencing them and responding with a little more firmness, "do not argue! You must learn a lesson in humility. Since you will finish well before your other teammates you are to then help Altair with training the new recruits." At this, the man against the wall, along with the addressed apprentice, respond with open discontentment. The young man's angry voice hits the master first, "I, your first and best student, see no necessity in this! Master Altair can teach the rookies without my aid!" A familiar Arabian accent follows, irritation tainting every word, "And I, _your_ teacher, have more important things to do, such as watch grass grow or rest in the warmth of the sun…"

Ezio frowns at the open disrespect for other members of the Brotherhood. The novice assassin's shrink at the harsh words spoken about them and the head assassin sees this. He raises his voice, first to the high ranking apprentice, "You have no authority to complain! Now go! You will find your assignment on the table by the front entrance." He watches with hardened eyes as the young man reluctantly bows to him and leaves, tossing a glare toward Altair as he passes. As soon as they exit the room, Ezio turns toward the man in the back of the room, shaking his head, "have you not learned to respect the Creed yet? Must I remind you of your past experiences?" Altair visibly frowns at that statement but shakes his head slowly, "no, no…" He walks toward the new members and stands amongst them, opening his arms wide, "we will become the best of friends. Besides, the newer the recruits, the less attitude they have." He glances to a few of the people around him and nods.

Ezio watches as Altair speaks a few words to them before smiling and commenting on his statement, "yes… they always come in nice and respectful. I think they get it from training with you, _mio amico_." He holds back a laugh at the look his fellow master gives him. The tall Italian gestures for the man to approach and Altair complies, stepping forward with grace and authority. The Recluta watch as the man stands beside their mentor and see with some amazement that they look almost exactly the same.

Both men stand at the same height. Although their clothes are obviously different, their faces and stature both mirror each other. A similar scar marks their lips in the same place, eyes hold the same intensity although Ezio's are brown and seem to soften a little easier then Altair's steely grey orbs. Neither have much facial hair except for a little stubble. The only visible difference between them is their skin color. Altair, having been under the Arabian sun most of his life is tanner while Ezio is a bit more pale thanks to the changing temperatures of the Italian climate. The females of the small group look to each other, sharing the same thoughts; that both men are undoubtedly attractive. The men however simply acknowledge the strength and rank that the two hold on them, suppressing their anticipation of someday surpassing the two men.

Ezio glances at his new students then back to the Arabian, leaning forward and whispering huskily into the man's ear, "Altair, why did you leave the bed so earlier this morning? You barely even cuddled with me… let alone engage in our usual morning round." The tanned assassin smirks at the mention of sex. He moves his mouth to his master's ear, "Ezio, have you no decency? How could you possibly be thinking of such things when there are students watching us?" The Italian glances at the awaiting rookies again and reluctantly pulls away from his fellow assassin. Altair smiles and mumbles just loud enough for Ezio to hear, "Perhaps I'll help you with that problem later, unfortunately you asked me to attend to other business first." The Italian squirms where he stands, really wanting to touch, kiss… ravage the taunting figure in front of him.

Altair just gives him a devious grin and steps away before the Mentor assassin has a chance to grab him. Ezio frowns at having lost his chance and turns away to face the new students, clearing his voice as he less than enthusiastically announces, "I must head into the city to gather weapons for all of you along with some supplies. So, while I'm away you will be looked after by your other Mentor, Master Altair. You will listen and learn under him…" He pauses before adding with even less emotion, "respect him or you will more than likely be killed…" With that the leader assassin steps down from the platform, looking back at the man he so desires standing so far away from him. What he wouldn't give to sweep the rookies away and take advantage of the prideful Arabian; although, not without an eventful fight.

Ezio sighs and walks off, exiting the room and leaving the assassin's hideout in search for what he needs. Altair watches the man leave with disappointed grey eyes, also wanting a little action as well. But, once he thinks the master assassin has gone, he turns to the students and speaks sternly, "you all know how to fight for the most part… correct?" Reluctantly the Recluta nod one by one. The Arabian heaves a sigh and steps down, "alright… we'll see how much you know… I hate training you novice recruits…" The young members look to each other, already sensing the anger and reluctance in the man, knowing they will most likely become just as fed up with him as he is of them already. And they are not looking forward to his attitude in the fighting ring.

Meanwhile~ Ezio strides down the old cobblestone streets of Rome, pondering on what all he should buy for the students. Of course they all need a hidden blade since it is customary and basically a symbol of the assassins. All he needs to buy are the materials for the devices and bring them to his friend Nicclo Machiavelli to assemble them. The students will learn to wield heavier weapons later but by then they will be able to purchase those themselves. So for now they just need a typical sword or knife that is easy to handle.

Ezio sticks with the crowd, blending so he is not bothered by any guards. In the loud hum of conversation around him, his mind starts to wander to a time where warmth was prominent. The Italian assassin steps past the wooden stand of a merchant and he is suddenly hit by the smell of foreign peppers and herbs. Immediately his daydream transforms into a memory of last night. He takes in a ragged breath as he remembers himself doing when sun soaked skin stretched over him, breath so hot it had made him sweat. Or maybe that was caused by the friction of his body being rubbed by someone whose musky scent filled his nostrils with the smell of distant spices so strong that his eyes had rolled back into his head. The memory fades, becoming a blur of pleasure.

The master assassin shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present. He finds that his breathe has picked up from the impact of that memory, as if he desperately wanted to breathe in that seductive yet sensual scent again. His fingers twitch, longing to touch that burning skin once more. Ezio, suddenly determined to return to the Creed headquarters, walks quickly through the crowds of people and finds a blacksmith. He quickly picks out about five or so swords, knives and the materials necessary for the hidden blades. He waits impatiently as the smithy gathers what was asked, telling Ezio that his assistant will deliver the blades and bracers the next morning. The head assassin pays the man and makes his way back to the hideout moving at a fast pace.

At the hideout, however, Altair is becoming increasingly frustrated by the new recruit's lack of skill. No matter how many times he gave them pointers on attack and strategy, they never seemed to get it. As if to make things more complicated, the Assassino rank student walks in, confidence in their steps. The Arabian flicks his eyes in the apprentice's direction and heaves an audible groan of annoyance. The young man hears this and stops in his tracks. The rookie students stop what they're doing and turn to face their two superiors as the air starts to grow tense. The young man from before curls his hands into fists and snaps, "I've had enough Altair! You have always treated me with such disrespect. If you hate me so much then why don't you just ask Master Ezio to get rid of me?"

Altair turns his unsettling grey eyes to the student and smirks, "believe me… I would if we didn't need you." This sends the Assassino into a rage. The apprentice steps forward and flexes his arm, drawing out his hidden blade, "if I am so important then why do you always treat me like dirt?" Altair's eyes move to the threat at hand and he stands. The students around them all turn around and watch, feeling like they should stop the fight before it starts but finds their bodies stiff and unmovable, morbidly eager to watch the fight between Master and student.

The Arabian tilts his head tauntingly but offers no answer, knowing how to push the buttons of all his students. He succeeds in angering the young assassin and braces as the apprentice starts to charge forward with a shout. Altair meets the Assassino, grabbing them by their arm and pulls them forward and off balance. The young man pulls back with a snarl and connects his fist with Altair's chest. The Arabian grunts but keeps his grin until, of course, the enraged student sneers, "forgive me if I damage your good looks, I wouldn't want to deny you a good fuck with Master Ezio…"

Suddenly Altair's amusement disappears. His arm flexes and the student watches as his eyes change from taunting to terrifying anger. Ice creeps up into the Assassino's blood as he is forced stare into the very eyes all their enemies see before they die. The young man struggles to pull his arm out of the Arabian's grasp but to no avail. Altair holds the terrified student still as he raises his blade up and aims it at the younger assassin's throat. The young man flinches as he pushes his arm forward but just as the tip hits the neck of the apprentice his movement stops. A strong arm holds back the Arabian's blade and a sharp voice assaults both fighter's ears, "I leave for fifteen minutes, and you two get in a fight?"

Altair's arm stays tense and his eyes are still connected to the students' wide, fearful orbs. Ezio leans closer to the angry assassin and growls lowly while squeezing the man's arm, "Altair… put your blade away." As if on command the Arabian's arm relaxes and falls; his hidden blade slipping back into its sheath. However his eyes stay on the Assassino, cold and deadly. Ezio pulls Altair away, behind him before addressing the high ranking assassin, "this does not help you… Machiavelli will talk to you about your punishment… and believe me when I say it will not be light." The young man grimaces but bows their head and quickly exits. The Italian then looks to the new students and smiles lightly, "I am sure you preformed well… please do not be too intimidated by Altair, he has a sharp tongue but will never hurt you…" His brown eyes move to the Arabian who is currently looking at the ground, distracted, before Ezio's low warning voice grabs his attention, "will you Altair?"

Truly he would hurt them if he deemed it necessary as he felt with the Assassino rank he just assaulted but to please the Italian he shakes his head and mumbles, "no… I will not hurt them…" For some reason that doesn't seem to make the young members any more comfortable then they already are. With a heavy sigh Ezio dismisses the Recluta before turning to Altair with an unhappy frown, "what did you do this time?" The Arabian looks at him, insulted and snarls, "I did nothing! Your precious pupil crossed the line!"

At this the Italian blinks but looks behind him, trying to see if anyone is in the room. Seeing no one, he looks back to his Arabian and closes the space between them, pressing against the man and whispering mischievously, "whatever it was they said, I'm sure it doesn't justify almost killing them… so I think you should be punished…" Altair smirks and wraps an arm around the Italian's shoulders mumbling back, "oh? Will you be administering these punishments? Or are you doing to sick Machiavelli on me?" Ezio laughs and looks Altair in the eyes with a smile, "no... Nicclo would be too easy on you. I think this deserves my _close_ attention."

Altair's smile grows as he starts to lean in closer. The hairs on the back of Ezio's neck rises when warm breathe brushes against his mouth. Stormy grey eyes stare into muddy brown before heavy eyelids close with the pleasure of touching lips. Finally, Ezio's fantasy body is within his grasp and he's not about to let go of it anytime soon. But then the Arabian pulls from the kiss and steps away, "as tempting as your punishment sounds, I don't really feel like it right now…"

Like hell he didn't feel like it now. Ezio grabs Altair's arm with a scowl and starts to drag him through the hideout toward his room. After being together for as long as they have, Ezio has grown used to Altair's sharp comments and complains, which he finds himself grateful for now when he's able to tune out the angry Arabian who finds it irritating to be dragged around. After a minute of traveling through the long corridors of barracks in the Creed building Ezio hears nothing except for the sound of hurrying feet. He feels less resistance to his pull and looks back to find Altair treading obediently behind him for once.

By the time he gets to the stairs leading to a secluded second floor of sorts Altair is moving with him by his side, connecting eyes with him whenever he looks over. The whole time Ezio is agitated by building impatients and tension. Each step on the staircase adds to his want and desire of the body beside him; the memory nagging his conscious until he feels he might explode if he doesn't get a taste of that spicy skin. Finally, the two assassins reach their destination, a plain looking wooden door that stands like a silent guardian to a room off limits to all but its inhabitants. Ezio practically tears the dedicated door off of its hinges in his haste to get inside his room. He yanks his fellow assassin in and pulls the man by his robes to mash their lips together in a violent kiss.

The Italian kicks the door closed behind Altair before shoving the man into the wooden surface. His hands search and grope for anything to give him more leverage in the kiss other than surprise. Meanwhile Altair, defiantly taken aback by his usually gentle partners' sudden roughness, stays still, shock seizing his body. His body only locks up more when Ezio suddenly thrust against his body, as if the Italian wasn't nearly as close as he wanted to be. After what seemed to be an eternity, Ezio's hands finally find something useful. In their quest, they had traveled up the still man's body, finding Altair's unattached hood. The hasty hands pull off the cowl shrouding his lover's face and covering the short, soft hair he suddenly desires to stroke. The edgy Italian throws the hood onto a nearby chair and proceeds to run his fingers through the short brown hair.

Altair stares strait ahead, hypnotized by the hungry mouth on his and restless fingers pulling his hair and massaging his scalp. His eyes unconsciously flicker across the room, lazily examining his surroundings while having really no thought process going through his head. His grey orbs look up into a hanging torch situated near a wooden desk with various papers scattered across the surface. Ezio's desk, the one he uses for confidential things. He has another desk in the entryway of sorts down stairs. But Altair always has to listen to him complain about how annoying it is to do paper work in a place where everybody filters in and out from. So finally they moved a desk up to their room to offer him someplace he might feel more comfortable doing work in.

The Arabian weakly kisses back against the rough lips pressed to his as he stares into that flame. Then his eyes move, breaking the spell the small fire had on him. They drift to a large bed pushed against the wall across from him. The bed sheets, lit dimly from multiple torches, glows a dark red. The silky warmth seems all too inviting to him at the moment. If he had the movement in him right now, he'd push valiantly toward the tempting bed and continue there. But alas he is unable to at the moment.

Just when Ezio is becoming uncomfortable with the small amount of returned love he feels a pair of stiff arms lift to the back of his head, pulling him into the kiss a little more. The Italian opens his eyes to meet hazy grey orbs, glowing silver in the low light of the torches. He smiles before sliding his slick tongue across Altair's bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. The Arabian hesitates a moment but when Ezio starts to nibble on his swollen lip he groans and opens his mouth, allowing the Italian tongue to fill his mouth and make the kiss deeper; for now that is.

Finally Altair's eyes drift slowly to a fireplace. The wood glows slightly from the embers left from earlier in the morning. Beside the hearth, sits a comfortable couch with cushions that seem to hug whoever rests on them; or perhaps that's because whenever he sits in that couch it is usually because a pair of Italian arms pull him into a hug. Suddenly he's ripped from his lazy observations of the room when a moan erupts from his occupied mouth. Unfortunately for Ezio, the sound seems to wake his body up. His cooperation ends with that moan.

Altair's eyes return to Ezio's face in a glare. His tongue starts to fight back viciously, slipping, sliding, pushing, and threats of biting force Ezio's moist organ into submission. The Arabian's hands suddenly pull the Italian's face away from his and he snarls, "If we're doing this, we're doing it _my_ way! It is, after all, my turn tonight." Ezio's only response is a smirk and another hearty thrust. The Arabian grunts and tilts his head up as his eyes clench shut from being shoved against the door. Immediately, he feels an insatiable Italian mouth against his neck, sucking lightly and running its tongue in circles, tasting his tanned skin.

He contains a groan of lust as that mouth leaves him yet another hickey, making its way along his throat. However, he's not done struggling just yet. Altair wiggles and squirms against Ezio's body and the door behind him. The Italian mentor tries to still the man's irritating movements by clamping his hands on the Arabian's shoulders but this does little to help. Getting nowhere with his wiggling, Altair decides to make his desire clear. His hands slide down from the Italian's hooded head to the center of his partner's back, tugging on the fabric and managing to choke out; "t-take it off Ezio…"

The master assassin of the Renaissance stops his efforts and steps back a few paces. Altair, panting slightly from Ezio's hard working tongue, waits impatiently for his lover to start stripping. However, the Italian notices with some surprise that Altair isn't driving forward, pushing him into the bed and forcefully ripping or tearing off his clothes; his Arabian is actually waiting! With this in mind, Ezio shakes his head with a smirk and grabs his Middle Eastern lover by his robes and spins them both around so Altair's back is facing the bed now; where the Italian now shoves him to.

The Arabian stumbles back onto the bed with a grunt and falls to the thick bedspread. However, he is quick to recover and sits up on the bed, not giving the Italian the chance to overwhelm him so easily. He spots Ezio sauntering up to him with an amused smirk on his lips, satisfied to see a slightly flustered Arabian on his bed. Altair keeps his guard up when the Italian stops in front of him, his body is stiff and his eyes are cold and observant, waiting for the man's next move.

Ezio kneels close to Altair's face and quietly mumbles, "You have lost the right to be on top, your being punished, remember?" The man scoffs at his words but then he closes the space between their mouths and gently kisses the Arabians already swollen lips. Altair tries to raise the rebellion inside of him but the care and love behind the gesture seems to beat it back down into submission this time. Ezio pauses the kiss to whisper, "Undress yourself Altair…" Again the reluctance to submit rises again and the Arabian shakes his head defiantly, "I think not, _Master_." Ezio's eyebrow twitches at the title and a grin replaces his smirk. For some reason that always seems to spur him on when his just-about-never submissive partner calls him that. His gentleness, as always, disappears with the name and he forcefully shoves Altair to the bed, giving the Arabian what he wants.

The tan assassin lets out a groan as Ezio's body all but crushes him. He struggles under the Italian as the man roams his body once more. The Master Assassin latches his mouth onto his lover's and practically purrs when that mouth opens automatically for him. They resume in a less then romantic kiss, growling and groaning every time one of them gets past the other's defenses. Altair's hands grip the back of his significant other's robes, shifting from his needy tugs to full out clawing the fabric, trying to find something to win the battle. He manages to snag the Italian's obnoxious hood, pulling it down; almost ripping it off in the process. Ezio presses deeper into the hot mouth as he feels restless fingers rummage through his long, dark brown hair.

The graceful yet impatient fingers tug on the thin red ribbon, releasing the smooth locks from their binding. Altair hums into the mouth on his as soft brown hair flows past Ezio's shoulders and onto his exposed neck, a few strands brush against his cheeks. The Italian reluctantly withdraws from the kiss to gasp for air. He gazes down at the unsatisfied grey orbs staring back at him. Suddenly he sits up and shifts so that he is straddling his fellow assassin, focusing his fingers on the man's complicated belt. Altair wiggles beneath him, not wanting to go down with out a fight. But, after all the practice he's had, Ezio quickly strips the Arabian of his belt.

Altair finds himself trapped beneath his lover, unable to move other then use his hands, which he uses to take off as much clothes as he can get. Which isn't much. He is only able to rid the other assassin of his cape, which falls to a silky heap on the ground. Since Ezio made the change of outfit, from the all white ceremonial gowns of the Mentor back to the old garbs given down to him by his father, undressing has become complicated once again. Although Altair likes this particular outfit on his lover, he finds it overly frustrating to have to strip the Italian of multiple layers of shirts.

His frustration always builds to one outcome, which he executes now. With a flex of his arm, his trusty hidden blade springs forth, giving him more reach and a sharp tool to cut through all of those pesky shirts which deny him access to what he wants. Ezio sees this coming and quickly stops his work on the Arabian's sash to grab the man's arm before it cuts through yet another outfit of his. Altair growls and lifts a pair of angry silver eyes to meet Ezio's amused brown orbs, "your clothes are annoying…" Ezio smiles and lowers the blade as he muses, "I can't keep replacing the shirts you rip apart, and the tailors are starting to get irritated."

Altair tilts his head, not convinced, "why should they be? They're getting paid, are they not?"

Ezio's smile turns to a slight frown and grumbles, "it's a waste of my money…"

"The bankers need the space." Altair sneers as his comments are just proving to annoy his lover.

But that's the last comment he's able to make when Ezio suddenly roughly grinds against his hips, causing a loud groan to escape his mouth. The Arabian's hands drop to the bed, pulling at the sheets as the friction builds between them. Ezio is able contain his moans of pleasure, only releasing a slight whimper when his lover starts to return the treatment with a light rocking of his very seductive hips. Eager to continue, the master assassin brings his hands back to the partially undone sash. He's just about to rip the fabric off when an image overtakes his mind.

Altair blinks when his partner stops the grinding all of a sudden. His stormy eyes glance up in slight concern for his lover, finding Ezio staring at the red sash in his hands with something like… lust in his eyes? But then those brown eyes drag up to meet his silver orbs, the simmering desire in them becoming a sudden blaze. The Arabian can't help but feel a little uneasy by those eyes but, at the same time, excitement stirs deep within him.

Ezio bundles up the sash and tosses it to the bed. Altair watches with some surprise as the Italian starts to take off his own belt. Suspicion starts to creep into the tanned assassin, wondering what caused Ezio's haste to take off his own clothes. Usually they both fight to strip the other first in an attempt to one-up each other; whoever has the most exposed skin is the one who has the most weaknesses for the other to trigger. So, seeing Ezio willingly strip himself is something to be rightfully questioned.

At long last, the Italian rids himself of the overly complicated belt, letting it clatter to the ground beside his cape. He carefully unties his silky sash and tosses it to join Altair's on the bed beside their pillows. The tan assassin attempts to prop himself up from the bed with one arm as the other reaches up to rest on his lover's abdomen where the belt and sash once covered. In the dim light cast by the torches, Ezio can barely see Altair's stormy silver eyes through the shadows that dance on the man's skin as they examine his less guarded body, mapping out a battle plan. Little does the Arabian know that _he_ will be the one at Ezio's mercy tonight.

Ezio leans his head down to press his forehead against the other's releasing a breathy sigh. Altair holds his head still but glances up to his lovers; shut eyelids. The Italian brings a hand to his fellow assassin's cheek, gently caressing the hot skin beneath his fingers. He takes in what he can of Altair's foreign scent, mumbling, "I'm so glad I've fallen in love with you." The Arabian sucks in a breath, not surprised of the man's words but still affected by them. He feels the urge to roll his eyes at the romantic words, and he would have, if he didn't feel the same. Ezio feels the change of breathe escaping Altair and continues, bringing his lips to the man's forehead, "you are the best thing that's happened to me… I don't think I could live long without you." The master assassin smiles when he feels Altair's hand grip the fabric where it rested on his abdomen, the thought of Ezio's death obviously upsetting him.

Ezio pulls his lips away to move his hand from the man's cheek to his chin, hooking a finger under it to lift the Arabian's eyes to meet his. But, where he is expecting love and kindness reflecting in the beautiful silver eyes of his lover, he is met with annoyance and irritation along with a sharp, unamused voice, "your romance is ruining my mood…" Why he expected something else, Ezio would never know. He rolls his exasperated brown eyes and kisses his partner quickly on the lips.

The Mentor starts to get up from his position on Altair's hips as he responds to the man smoothly, "you are so, unromantic Altair, it's disappointing." He quickly hops off the bed only to pull his partner up by his arms up to his feet. Then, before the man can move let alone respond, Ezio grabs the Arabian by his thighs and lifts up, picking the heavy assassin up. He only has to hold the weight for a few seconds as Altair instinctively wraps his legs around the Italian's waist, and pulls himself up by grabbing onto the master assassin's shoulders. Ezio holds the man steady with a strong arm around his upper and lower back.

The Italian gives the startled Arabian a lighthearted laugh before moving to the bed again. Altair's eyes flicker with irritation, feeling humiliated for being caught of guard, but the position he's in quickly replaces his irritation with interest. Ezio stands at the edge of the bed, gazing into Altair's eyes which seem to just now notice just how close they are to the Italian. A silky smooth voice caresses the ears of the usually irritable assassin, "you look beautiful in this light, as usual." Altair's arms wrap around his shoulders tightly and Ezio watches as delicious lips just about fall on his, only to hover just above them. Warm breath on his sensitive skin responds in a whisper, "and you talk too much… as usual…" A slick tongue emerges from the delectable mouth to press against his.

Ezio releases a needy moan as his mouth opens and devours the tongue, loving the assault on his mouth with every fiber of his being. The master assassin grips the back of Altair's robes in pleasure while crawling onto the bed simultaneously. The Arabian's legs tighten around the man's waist with the sudden change. Both of them moan this time as their hard members meet and rub together with every move Ezio makes. Once in the middle of the bed, the head assassin lets go of the Arabian, pressing his hands to the bed while continuing the kiss.

But the sudden lack of support causes Altair to drop onto the thick bed sheets again. Their mouths separate, much to the pair of assassin's disappointment. Both groan their objections. Ezio follows his lover's mouth while his hands quickly slide down the man's body to grab onto the Arabian's hips and pull them up and thrust them into his. Altair reclaims his dominance of his partner's mouth but groans loudly with the thrust which causes his arms to tighten even more around Ezio's shoulders and drive his tongue deeper into the sweet cavern he's exploring. Running out of air, the two reluctantly separate

Ezio stares down at the body beneath him with hunger. With Altair in his arms he had felt the intense heat given off by the man, the same warmth that he was fantasizing about earlier. The spicy skin hidden beneath unnecessary cloth taunts him still even as he threatens to expose it. His hands run across the chest built by many years of grueling training and exhausting assassinations. It's almost too much for him. Altair, seeing the distraction in the man's eyes, has to clear his throat impatiently to gain the Italian's attention again. "Are you just going to stare or actually get somewhere?" This gets Ezio's focus again. He watches as brown eyes lift to meet his amused grey storms. The two assassins stay like this in a standstill until Altair becomes annoyed and lifts his hands up to start undressing the Italian. Strangely the head assassin does noting to stop him as he slowly unbuttons and unties the over-excessive amount of buttons and ties. One by one Altair quickly finishes the tedious job of exposing Ezio's chest to him. He barely even glances up as he swiftly props himself up again and attempts to claim the exposed skin, only to be pushed back down by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Altair snarls loudly, extremely irked that he was so close to his prize and denied it so cruelly. His angry storm clouds flash at Ezio but the Italian simply states, "Punishment…" The thoroughly irritated Arabian pushes against the arm that holds him but his position give him little help in overpowering that strong arm. Ezio leans in close and purrs, "It's my turn now, _mio amore_." The tan assassin sucks in a breath of surprise when he feels a cold blade drag from his chest to his abdomen. Ezio cuts through his lover's thin assassin robes, making sure not to slice any skin.

The tables have been turned on him, Altair looks down to his robes where they are torn through the middle to expose his very well built torso. Astonishment and anger consumes him as he rants, "damn it, Ezio! Only tailors from my time and home country can repair these!" His eyes lift to meet those of a very amused Italian as he continues, "you'll pay for this, _bastardo!_" His jaw locks at the sound of Italian leaving his mouth. Ezio suddenly erupts into laughter at the use of his language escaping the lips of his Arabian lover. Altair only snarls and slams a palm into the man's gut, "you've infected me with your damn language as well!" The Master assassin grunts and brings his free arm to his gut as he chuckles quietly, "I am _so_ sorry Altair."

He stops his laughter and smirks down at his lover before leaning down to kiss the Arabian's forehead and whispers, "I'll make sure they get fixed. For now stay here, like this please?" Altair's defiant eyes glare at the man who sits back once more. But then Ezio starts to shrug off the shirts that Altair had worked so hard to unbutton, claiming the Arabian's attention. One by one the Italian tugs off his clothing, slowly and sexually, rolling his shoulders to throw the cloth that hangs precariously from him to the bed, where he then just brushes the pile of pesky shirts onto the ground. He slowly and hypnotically gets off of the bed one more time, holding Altair where he watches. Ezio pulls off his complicated boots, stumbling with the force he has to apply in order to take them off. Usually he'd be a little embarrassed by his fumbling, expecting a sarcastic remark about his balance from his sharp minded partner but Altair's eyes hold a somewhat eagerness, not caring what mistakes Ezio makes as long as the Italian comes back to him.

Fortunately he doesn't have to wait long, for as soon as the master assassin takes off his boots, he's back to the edge of the bed, pulling off Altair's less complicated boots. This seems to snap the Arabian from his trance and he sits up, making Ezio pause mid-pull and glare, not wanting Altair to move. But then his irritable assassin does something that practically makes the Italian drool.

With relaxed movements, Altair brings up his right arm and tugs the buckles on his bracer with his teeth, pulling them loose with gentle care. The Arabian carefully takes the wrist guard off and places it on the closest bedside table. Then, with equal tenderness, the tanned assassin uses skilled fingers to remove his hidden blade from his left arm. His grey eyes stay soft and focused on the weapon around his arm. Ezio swallows as his partner treats the blade with such love and respect that it almost makes him jealous. The Italian wishes to push through that bond between the blade and _his_ assassin. But the movements of the Arabian keep him still and he is forced to watch as the hidden blade is placed beside the leather bracer.

However, his torture is hardly over. Altair connects eyes with the struggling Italian. The stormy eyes remain calm and seductive as lazy hands crawl up and part his ripped robes. Immediately Ezio's eyes are on those hands which roam the body he wishes to touch. Fingers show such utter disregard for his desires as they dance across the warm skin in their quest to free the body of its cloth bindings. First the smooth vest-like robe is shed. A tight fitting white shirt which extends past his hips follows the curves of his body. With some trouble, Altair is able to tug the greedy fabric from his arms with is teeth as the sleeves prove to be difficult. Finally, all that's left is a tunic-like garb which he less then gracefully pulls off.

Now, all that's keeping Ezio from the warm, inviting chest of his Arabian is the space between them. Altair sits back again, arms holding his weight as he stares and smirks at the obviously turned on Italian. The Mentor uses the edge of the bed to keep himself up as his eyes hungrily feast on the body before him. Pronounced muscles flex with the simplest of movements. The warm light of the fire hanging around the room casts shadows in every dip and curve of the flesh beneath sun soaked skin. It's driving him crazy.

Altair's equally eager eyes scan over the just as well endowed body. Scars litter the Italian's fine skin, causing slight differences in color on the beautiful chest of his lover. Truthfully finds himself become uneasy by the numerous wounds his loved one has sustained because of their career. If he could, he would gladly hunt down and kill each creator of the scars but knows with some agitation that it would be impossible to find them all. He notes that a few marks and scratches also tarnish the smooth skin of his partner. He smiles at the memories the healing marks give him, memories of when his blade has dragged down the gorgeous body glowing before him. Altair glances over to his hidden blade resting on the table beside the bed, wondering if he really should have taken it off.

However his blood thirst will have to wait. Ezio, having grown edgy the more he looked at the body before him, reaches forward and quickly hooks his fingers on the Arabian's pants. As soon as Altair feels the possessive fingers on his hips his eyes are back on Ezio but he is unable to stop the Italian as the man yanks his pants off completely. He now sits completely naked before an obviously frustrated Italian with no protection what so ever. Just as he's about to open his mouth and form a complaint, Ezio crawls onto the bed, over him. For some reason the look in the master assassin's eyes keeps his jaw clenched shut.

Although the Italian's eyes are lustful and hungry, he puts a gentle hand on the Arabian's chest, asking rather than demanding for the man to lie back down. Altair complies and lifts an arm up to run a hand through his fellow assassin's hair. With a tilt of his head and a gentle smirk, he beckons this partner to kiss him and kiss him good. Ezio allows his head to drop while Altair's head lifts to meet each others lips. They start out loving, as if to make sure that is established firmly between them before the gesture becomes sloppier and aggressive as tongues fight and jaws rub and crush each other. Their kiss, although rough and abusive, is filled with the passion of their relationship; something only a pair of assassins can show toward each other.

Groans escape from both beings. Altair is lost in the kiss, feeling his tongue being rubbed lovingly by his lover. He charms the Italian with soft moans and whimpers, knowing how the man seems to like it when he does that. It seems to work but the Italian fights the slow mist that threatens to shroud his mind. His hands stretch past the Arabian, searching through closed eyes for something while the other man is unaware. Finally his fingers touch silk and he quickly pulls his catch back.

Meanwhile Altair is officially distracted; his hand leaves the soft hair to run down the other man's neck to his shoulder. He dips his hand under the Italian's body, gently yet firmly rubbing the hardened muscles on the man's chest. The adventurous hand makes its way to Ezio's side, fingers curling to touch the smooth back of his lover. His explorative digits trace every ridge created by the Italian's ribs. Altair's hand strokes back and forth, feeling every dip and curve his fellow assassin has. The Arabian's other hand lifts to join the other except on the opposite side. The graceful limb stretches past his lover's side, following the intricate ribcage were it connects to the spinal cord. His hand rests on the other's back, easing the Italian assassin down so their bodies can meet and bond.

But Ezio has something else in mind. His arms wrap around the Arabian's body, pulling the man's chest forward and he suddenly shifts, rolling both of them both over. Altair opens his eyes, seeing that he is on top of Ezio now. The Italian shoves his tongue against the tan assassin's, demanding Altair's attention back. So, he returns to the heated kiss, closing his eyes, and ignoring the suspicious movements of his lover's hands. They slip along his body like a ghost, hovering through his subconscious but never firm enough to trigger any notice. He might have observed them if there wasn't a tongue battling its access into his mouth.

Ezio struggles to keep his mind on the task his hands are performing and the kiss at the same time. With one final shove and a roll he lands on top of his partner again and breaks the kiss, ignoring the thick strands of saliva connected to their mouths, as he sits up and straddles his lover again. Altair growls lowly, having enjoyed the kiss, but blinks when he sees the limp red sash in his Italian's hand. He finally notices through the haze of the kiss that his chest feels restricted; dazed, he opens his mouth, "w-wha-?" Ezio quickly takes this chance, he grabs and lifts the Arabian's head where he wraps the long piece of silk firmly around the man's mouth, cutting him off before moving Altair's arms where he pins them to the bed over the man's head. His hands work quick, wrapping the red cloth around his partner's arms, traveling up to his wrists, making sure to tighten the ribbon as to prevent any escape. He keeps a small length of free material in case he is in need of any more binding. When he feels as if he's finished, Ezio leans back to examine his accomplishments.

Altair struggles and snarls from behind the cloth used as a gag, finding it very hard to move. During their kiss, Ezio managed to successfully wrap the surprisingly long sash once of twice around the Arabian's torso as it was designed to. The two ends of the fabric travel in opposite directions. One end stretches up, trailing across the hard chest where it presses along the man's neck, traveling to where it is wrapped around the Arabian's mouth, clamped down by his teeth; it then trails up and around Altair's arms and ends where his hands were just tied. The other end wraps from his chest down to his abdomen where the hanging end falls tantalizingly between his legs waiting to fully bind this angry assassin.

Ezio wastes little time admiring his work before he gets off of his lover and sits beside him on the bed. Altair watches with fire in his eyes as the Italian calmly reaches for his sash. The less silky fabric slips between the master assassin's hands as he reaches down toward his partners' legs. Altair's brow twitches as Ezio starts to wrap the sash around his ankles. Not having this, the Arabian sharply brings his knee up, almost slamming it into his lover's jaw if Ezio hadn't moved in time. The Arabian growls lowly, kicking off the sash before he can be tied up anymore then he already is. This only serves to irritate Ezio but the Italian solves the problem by starting at the man's hips. The tanned assassin watches helplessly as his sash is draped over Ezio's along his abdomen before being wrapped down to his hips.

His eyes clench shut when warm fingers and soft fabric lightly brush against his hard member. His hips rise slightly and Ezio can't help but stroke the burning flesh a few times, gorging on the muffled moans his lover gives him, before moving on. He focuses most of the coils around the Arabian's slender hips; leaving enough space for their act later, while he spaces the ribbon along the long legs of the assassin, finally tying the sash tightly around Altair's ankles.

The irritated assassin struggles vainly to rid himself of these bindings, twisting and turning, trying to work something loose but to no avail. The Italian tilts his head at his fellow assassin's efforts and simply smiles. As if to cause Altair even more grief, he brings his hands to the Arabian's abdomen where the ends of both sashes meet where he then ties an almost perfect bow, sealing their connection and tormenting the already embarrassed assassin farther. He ignores the subdued shouts of protests from his partner and examines his work fully. In the low light of the torches, blood red sash blends with sun-heated tan skin, to form a beautiful figure which Ezio deems perfect. The Gods should be jealous.

With a heavy sigh he returns to his spot on top of the infuriated assassin, settling himself comfortably while he drags his tongue across the skin he's been longing all day and is now receiving like a well wrapped gift without any struggles. Finally something is going as he wants it to.

Altair grinds his teeth on the sash but finds no voice as he is given another stroke by the moist tongue. He can never understand Ezio's obsession over his skin. Sure skin can taste good when it's sweaty and salty but the Italian treats his skin as if it's an aphrodisiac. Which he supposes it truly is for this particular assassin. Ezio's hand gently cups his face, rubbing a pointer finger around his temple. Although, Altair absolutely hates his position now, he can't help but lean his head into the calming hand. Slowly his struggling slow to an occasional twitch and he is calmed by the mouth assaulting his skin and hand massaging his scalp.

Of course that's before Ezio shifts and starts to grind against the assassin beneath him. Altair's eyes open wide as his back arches and he lets out a long groan from behind the cloth in his mouth. The Italian's mouth then moves up to the exposed skin on the Arabian's neck, causing Altair to tilt his head back and give him more access to the hot flesh he can't seem to get enough of. The master assassin continues his slow, digging grind, thrusting himself as close as he can before roughly dragging his crotch against the other man's. The Arabian cannot contain himself, moan after moan becoming louder as his mind is tossed into disarray. His eyes clench shut and he bites the cloth, stilling his noises as he's tortured with pleasure.

The Italian continues and moves his mouth to his lovers jaw, sucking, licking, kissing, anything to get some reaction out of the other assassin. Altair Ibn-La' Ahad, the "Son of None", is desperately holding back his moans of sheer pleasure while being relentlessly grinded into and kissed. Ezio muses how such a prideful and powerful man can respond so strongly to being bound and teased. But then he remembers, if it were anyone besides him, they would be long dead and bleeding from a hate filled blade dragged across their neck. Suddenly Altair's hips rock back and forth in slow, seductive grind, catching Ezio's attention. They hypnotize him with their movements and drive him crazy.

The master assassin's hands start to roam the other man's body again, running over every curve and contour of the muscular torso before heading down farther to rub the Arabian's thighs. Altair's back arches once again as the hands tease him, stroking up and down so close but not close enough. The tanned assassin pushes up to grind harder. The Mentor growls loudly against the hot Arabian skin as his hard-on is rubbed firmly against Altair's. His hands move up a little to grab onto those seductive hips as he ruthlessly dry humps his lover. Altair's noises return as sudden grunts of ecstasy as he writhes and bucks underneath his fellow assassin. The pleasure grows and he knows he doesn't have much longer before releasing; this is all too much.

As if sensing this, Ezio forces himself to stop. Altair's hips still rub slightly against his but he's able to resist the urge to completely pound into the man. The master assassin rolls over to his back, gasping for air as his body screams for more of the desirable body beside him. He chuckles slightly as Altair huffs slightly from behind the makeshift gag, disappointed by the sudden stop. But then he sits up on his knees and starts to pull off his pants, slowly and seductively. He wags his hips back and forth, working the last article of clothing down before sitting back and kicking them off. Altair wiggles where he lies, wishing he could tackle the teasing Italian to the bed and ravage his body.

Ezio then turns to him and smirks, "see, I'd really enjoy seeing you suck my dick right now but unfortunately your mouth is a little busy…" The Arabian glares his frustrations at Ezio but then turns his head away defiantly. The head assassin rests a hand on his lover's abdomen, stroking it slightly before untying his beautiful bow. This regains the man's attention as silver eyes flick to the limp sashes on his body. Ezio takes both sashes in his hand while planting small kisses along the Arabian's forehead and temple. Altair watches as he hand travels farther down his abdomen until one of his eyes is forcefully shut by an annoying Italian mouth. The tan assassin grumbles his annoyance and shakes his head slightly to rid himself of the loving lips, wanting to watch the suspicious actions of the hand.

The master assassin frowns at his lovers' coldness but resumes his kisses. At the same time his hand with the sashes suddenly grips the Arabian's throbbing member. Altair's lets out a muffled grunt and his head slams back into the bed. Ezio starts a slow pumping, guiding the two clothes across his partner's sensitive dick. The smooth silk mixed with the soft material of Altair's sash creates a hot and cold sensation while a firm hand presses them both close. It doesn't take long before lusty moans fill the room again. Ezio's mouth contradicts his hand, lightly kissing his lovers face, brushing against the man's lips. His breath brushes against the Arabian's ears as he purrs lovingly, "you don't have to hold back, Altair. Make as much noise as you can… please."

The tan assassin tosses his head away from the other's gentle request, his teeth clench down on the silk sash as he keeps his voice to low moans and grunts. Ezio frowns at the Arabian's stubbornness but returns his affectionate lips to the spicy skin beside him. His tongue lightly laps behind the other man's ear while his hand works at a steady pace, not too fast nor too slow; just enough stimulation to keep his partner hard and at a constant rise of pleasure. Oh he's too good at this.

The sweat that has collected on Altair's forehead slowly trickles past his temple where Ezio catches it with a hungry tongue. The Arabian's body shudders as the pressure inside him stays at a constant level, almost at the peak of climax but not quite there. Not only is a hand continuously stroking him, denying him of any real release, the Italian's persistent shower of love and affections seem to add to his anxiety. Finally, he snaps, he's had enough of this tease. If it costs him some dignity then he'll beat himself up about it later; or better yet, he'll beat up Ezio. With a frustrated groan, Altair turns his head to face the romantic Italian and connects his eyes with the other man.

He then gives Ezio a look rarely seen before: a look of utter submission, one of pleading and desire. The brown eyed assassin stares into the shocking silver eyes, dumbfounded and amazed by the depth of desire shown. Then, to serve as an overkill of stimulation for the master assassin, Altair's eyes fall to the bed in an almost innocent manner as he moves his pleasure-stiff body closer to the shocked Italians' where he nuzzles close to the Mentor with a soft sigh.

Normally Ezio would be extremely concerned by this overly uncharacteristic move if he wasn't so turned on right now. Without really knowing, Ezio's hand has gone into overdrive to serve this almost pathetic assassin. Meanwhile Altair is inwardly smirking as his little act gets him what he wants. The helpless bit works all the time; even when he was together with that jackass Malik from his own time period. But sudden pleasure rips the Arabian from his thoughts as his orgasm finally approaches. His hips arch and head buries itself into Ezio's truly comforting body.

The Italian rests his head atop his Arabian's watching as his hand feverishly pumps and jerks the hard member with the sashes. At long last, Altair's eyes clench shut as he rolls his head from under Ezio's to the side and, moaning loudly, he releases his seed onto Ezio's hand and sash. The Italian pumps his fellow assassin for all that he's worth, gorging on the sight of his blood red sash soaking in his loved one's semen. The tan assassin whimpers as his over stimulated member is still being harassed until he snarls into the cloth. The Italian frowns and reluctantly stills his hand, letting the white covered clothes fall from his hand onto the Arabian's stomach.

Altair closes his eyes, trying to get over his orgasm. He ignores the slight tug he feels as one of the ends of the sash is pulled. His hands lazily work on loosening themselves from their bindings as he catches his breath. The light crackling of the torches is virtually the only sound in the room. It's almost enough to send him to sleep if it wasn't his natural desire to be pressed firmly against his lover; to cuddle with the man who has caused him so pleasurable pain. But the man beside him seems to be in his own little world.

Although, within a few seconds heavy breathing seems to fill his ears and Altair turns to find Ezio masturbating with his sash in hand. The Arabian furrows his brows and grumbles a complaint into the silk gag. The Italian just grunts and smirks before continuing with his rushed speed. Altair heaves a sigh before offering some help, rolling over onto the mentor assassin, stopping the mans hand movements to stare down into Ezio's needy brown eyes. His grey eyes quickly calm the Italian's with a loving warmth only given after he's been satisfied and he's reminded of the deep love he has for Ezio. The Arabian shifts and bites down on the dark red cloth in his mouth before he softly yet roughly rocks his hips against the master assassin. The Italian's eyes clench shut as he has no gag to muffle his loud moans, arching his back so he lifts him and Altair off the bed for a moment only to crash down again with a raspy groan. Before long Ezio cries out his lover's name and cums hard, covering the Arabian's sash-bound groin and abdomen in his thick white semen.

Altair sighs as the liquid seeps across his body, further staining the strips of fabric, and onto the bed. Ezio shivers beneath the warm body of his lover, the scent of spices overwhelming his senses. The Arabian's low hum is the only thing that makes its way through his recovering consciousness. Weakly, Ezio plucks at the sash at the back of his partner's head, eventually releasing the man of the gag. Altair flexes his jaw, sore from being bound for so long. The ever vigilant Arabian notices that the length of sash has grown limp without the support around his head. He keeps this in mind for later, settling on the fact that Ezio won't notice the weakness because of his daze-like state.

At the moment he blinks down at his romantic lover and smiles warmly as he coos, "Ezio, you're going to clean this up…" The Italian closes his eyes and turns his head to the side, not wanting to think about anything since his body is still recovering. The tan assassin lightly nibbles along his jaw as a taunting voice disturbs his peaceful, warmth-filled rest, "don't tell me you're done already… are you tired… _novice_?" Oh. That old title. It never ceases to irritate the Italian. His eyebrows twitch and he opens his eyes before snarling, "Roll over to your stomach…" Altair blinks and responds flatly, "you don't honestly think you have enough in you to go on, do you?"

He knows that was an insult and a lie. Altair knows very well that Ezio can go on longer then he probably should. Sometimes the Italian even exceeds his own stamina, making this statement very weak. The head assassin growls again before suddenly, pushing Altair off of him. Ezio flips his partner onto his stomach before laying himself atop his lover with his stiff member, brought to full mast by just the thought of this, and, after taking a few moments to pull down a few coils of sash, is poised and ready for entrance. Altair grunts with the weight on his back as he looks behind him, "E-Ezio, wait!" But before he can even argue, the Italian's hard length buries itself inside him.

A prolonged groan escapes his mouth and his head tips back. Ezio, whose soft moan was drowned by Altair's noise, wraps his arms around the other man to pull the Arabian's hips back to they are both in a more comfortable position. Ezio's chest hovers over his lovers raised hips while Altair's bound hands are stretched over his head where he grips at the sheets from the feeling of having a pulsating rod inside of him.

Once situated in the way that he wants to be, Ezio pulls out until only his tip is still submerged before slamming hard and fast into his partner's hungry canal. Altair claws at the sheets, grinding his teeth together as the Italian pounds into him. This was supposed to be _his_ night to be on top. And to make things worse, Ezio has resumed his romantic antics. Smooth yet calloused hands rub his chest, sides and back with such care it was as if they were touching something so delicate that if they apply too much pressure then the object would crumble beneath them. Altair closes his eyes with the unsettling realization that Ezio's attempts to make him feel loved are finally working.

Although the Italian has taught him how love is more then just a competition, a simple rivalry, Altair has always objected to being on "bottom". He has always thought of it as a form of weakness, submission; and he, a man who has always been taught to connect submission with death, finds it hard to feel love during his weakness. This doesn't mean he's never showed Ezio love before; in fact, although he is rough, he is usually extremely kind when he is on top. Aggression always fills him however, whenever Ezio tries to return the love as he is now.

But he's tired of fighting and he finally accepts Ezio's affection. He lets his guard down for once and relaxes. His body sinks with a sigh and he gently starts to meet his partner's thrusts. Ezio's low purr reverberates next to his ear and the hands along his body become a little firmer. Altair twists his head to suddenly meet the Italian's mouth where he kisses and whispers huskily, "give me all you've got '_Master_'." There's that name again. Ezio responds immediately with a grin and a playful growl as he rams harder.

Altair pulls his loosely bound arms into his body where he uses them to meet each passionate thrust valiantly. This in turn causes both men to moan and groan their pleasure. But then Ezio turns the tables of equality by wrapping his talented fingers around the Arabian's stiff member. The tan assassin grunts and bucks as experienced digits rub his shaft, drawing intricate designs on the sensitive skin. Calloused finger tips rub the tip of his rod, playing with the slit which is leaking a steady stream of pre-cum before they wrap around the base and viciously pump for more of the pearly liquid.

The poor Arabian is beside himself in ecstasy. His hands weakly grip the bed sheets as he mumbles his approval into the sweat drenched covers. Ezio on the other hand gazes on his lover's pleasure-stiff body, his chest firmly pressed against the other mans back. The romantic Italian smiles as the enticing heat radiates off the body he's crushing. He grunts as he quickens his pace, feeling his own orgasm coming fast but first he has to satisfy the man beneath him. Always the courteous Italian, Ezio feels he must please his partner before himself. Which is why his hand is now working extra hard to get the writhing Arabian off.

Altair grinds his teeth as he feels pre-cum gush into his anus, knowing that his Italian doesn't have much time left. But then his eyes clench shut when his own orgasm jumps him. He lets out a deafening snarl and tosses his head up as it morphs into a moan. Copious amounts of his sperm stains the bed, creating a gooey puddle beneath him. Altair's climax leaves him gasping for air as Ezio kisses the back of his neck while redoubling his efforts. But he doesn't have to work too hard; Altair's beautiful orgasm is enough to shove him over the edge.

The Arabian's meaty walls clench around his throbbing member, sending Ezio into the deep throws of euphoria. He gives his partner one last hearty thrust before erupting his thick seed into the man, driving the liquid deep within his exhausted lover. The Italian's long, pleasured groan is all Altair hears within the mist that fills his conscious. The two pant and huff, sucking in as much air as they can in their attempt to recover.

Finally Ezio reawakes from his shock, finding himself slumped over Altair's sweaty back. The master assassin gathers himself up and carefully pulls out of his lover's entrance with a weak whimper as the soft walls brush against his sensitive member. Once released, Altair rolls to his side, groaning his displeasure when he finds himself lying in his own sperm. But then Ezio joins him in the liquid, throwing himself down in an exhausted heap. The Italian takes other man in his arms and pulls the man close.

It takes a good couple of minutes before either can talk. Altair's silver eyes open to find his loved one on the verge of sleep. He frowns and speaks, not allowing the Italian to escape his slight wrath for being forced to submit although lovingly, "Ezio… I'm going to get you back for this…" The great Mentor yawns and slowly opens his muddy brown eyes, "you know you liked it… You should let me be on top more often." Yeah sure Altair feels loved and sure he learned something about the 'love' in 'love making' but he can not deny that, although it felt good, having his ass pounded was a sign of weakness. And he hated that feeling. And he plans to have his revenge.

But not now. He hates to admit it, but his body is too spent after two rather large orgasms to go for another round. So, the irritated Arabian instead rolls away from his lover, much to Ezio's discomfort. He stops at the edge of the bed and swings his bound legs over so that he's sitting up. He then starts to work off the silky sash from his arms, tugging the length off with his teeth. Finally, when his arms are free he bends to untie his own sash from around his ankles and legs, basically leaving both sashes to hang at his chest and abdomen.

Here, he looks down at the very messy clothes around his torso. He brings a hand to his head where he runs his fingers through the short brown hair. He huffs and grunts, "how the hell are we supposed to clean this…" Suddenly arms grab him from behind, wrapping around the middle of his torso before they pull him back and press him against a warm chest. A silky smooth voice purrs suggestively in his ear, "I've got an idea…"

So Altair found it in him to last for a few more rounds before sleep relieved him of Ezio's constant passion.

Dim sunlight trickles through the windows around the room, revealing the bed, long lost in their rambunctious play, supports the couple amongst the disheveled sheets and blankets. One thin covering shrouds their naked bodies. Or well… mostly naked. Sometime during their sex Ezio entangled himself in the sashes as well, forming a spider-web like bond between them.

The master assassin wakes up to a perfectly warm body pressed close to his. The hot skin so close to his makes him wonder groggily why he even needs a blanket around him. Sunlight blinds him as he attempts to open his eyes, making him groan. The body beside him stirs and stretches. Or tries to. The binding sashes around them just bring them even closer with the movement. This receives a light, amused chuckle from Ezio but an unhappy grumble from the Arabian. The master assassin huffs; Altair is always grumpy in the morning.

Suddenly Altair rolls both of their tied bodies together just as Ezio was going to offer a cuddle session; but the Italian assumes this as an invitation for another round of amazing sex. However this isn't what his partner has in mind. Fed up with being tied up, Altair rolls to a long forgotten tool resting atop a nightstand. The head assassin, still waking up but happy with the realization that Altair is now on top of him, mumbles a quick greeting, "_buongiorno_, _bello_…" The Arabian lifts himself off of the comforting chest and stretches an arm toward the nightstand. He looks down at his romantic lover and smirks, "good morning, Ezio…" He dips his head down and kisses his loving partner.

Ezio doesn't bother to figure out just what Altair is doing, too busy running his fingers through the man's messy hair. Altair hums against the warm lips but brings his arm back into the comfortable cocoon they had formed last night. The Arabian turns his head and lifts his head to stare warmly into the soft brown eyes of the Mentor. They keep up the stare until a familiar sound interrupts the moment. Ezio's eyes widen as the sound of a blade emerging from it comfy sheath disturbs him; the quiet sliding of metal is followed by the soft noise of cloth being cut. Suddenly their love-wrapping falls apart around them as the sashes become loose and fall limply at their sides.

The Italian stares disbelievingly at his lover as the Arabian holds his affectionate smile and warm eyes few get to receive. Altair kisses Ezio once more before whispering, "I love you with every fiber of my being." He nuzzles the stunned man, trailing quick pecks down the smooth neck to the collarbone. Then he's gone, off the bed, and finding and pulling on his pants. His words would hold a lot more meaning behind them if he didn't just get up and leave. Ezio sits up and watches his cruel partner dress himself.

Altair turns his head to the side and connects his gleaming silver eyes with Ezio and throws the obviously disappointed assassin a smirk as he pulls up a boot, "the tailors will certainly be glad to see you today…" With that he tosses his torn shirts at the Italian who lay amongst the tattered sashes and flees the room.

Suddenly everything seems cold in the room. Alone without his living sun, Ezio sits atop his beaten bed, starting at the open door where his heat source escaped. He can't help but pout.

As it turns out, the tailors were both happy and annoyed to see Ezio. He was forced to pay for the simple repairs of Altair's robes. Truthfully he felt like annoying the hell out of the Arabian by asking the workers to sew on some ruffles on them, add some Italian culture to the garbs. But to save himself the scars, he refrained. He reluctantly bought new sashes and left with significantly less weight in his purse than he had coming in.

Upon returning, Ezio finds Machiavelli holding Altair by the back of his neck, explaining how the man had gotten into yet another fight. Then, once they were alone the older man proceeded to tell him of numerous complaints about how 'unexplained' noises were keeping up the other assassins at night. Nicclo didn't go on about the matter but Ezio kindly patted the man on the back and told him not to worry, "Altair and I will be leaving for the next couple of days, checking on our allies to see how they are doing."

Little does the hated Arabian know, Ezio has much planned for those days and is looking forward to them after the events of last night. Yes, things will be very interesting for the assassins.

* * *

Bad ending I know... buuuut it leaves it open for the next chapter! yeah that's right! this one's got chapters~

the chapters will be set in like three diffrent locations other then the brotherhood.

1st- Thieves Guild

2nd- Courtisans (a.k.a. friendly prostitutes)

3rd- Mercenary Barracks

aaand all three juicy lemons~ ;D

haha so yeah, I hope you enjoyed this! and look forward to the next chapters! Please leave reviews and stuff! I might start doing requests but idk yet :P

-WhiteWolf535


	2. Chapter 2: Thieves' Guild

**Frick! Finally! **

**This was so hard to finish, I kept getting writers block and then personal issues came up and... anyway thank's for being p****atient and stuff.**

**keep in mind that i was struggling with a few things aaand this is unedited so expect spelling mistakes and such. Anyway, i luv ya guys! thanks for the support! **

**this one features... a drunk, horny Alty! :D **

**so get reading! (btw read the message at the end)**

* * *

Thieves Guild

Sunlight filters through the treetops as the two assassins ride through the Roman countryside. Ezio, atop his trusty black steed, glances to his yawning counterpart riding his very loyal mare, which is, unsurprisingly an Arabian. The tan assassin pauses mid-yawn when his horse tosses her head and jumps as a carriage passes, leaning down to pat her soft dark brown fur. The Italian watches with raised eyebrows as the other man tugs softly on the horses' lighter brown mane, which seems to calm the animal down rather quickly, before leaning back, looking satisfied. Ezio shakes his head in wonder how such an irritable man can soothe the beasts so well.

He turns back to the virtually empty road ahead of them, soaking in the beauty that is Rome, his new home. Fields stretch far and wide where the occasional farm house or village litters the landscape. Farther ahead of them however, lies a larger village, but not too big. From what he can observe, there are small merchant buildings that form a sort of circle. Amongst those buildings is one built with a tall tower a couple of stories tall. Although most buildings in the city of Rome can excel this one, the tower seems to dominate the small town causing it to look bigger than it really is.

That tower, or the Thieves Guild, is where he is headed, along with his partner in crime and romance, Altair. Ezio blinks as the sudden thought of his lover brings the realization to him that the sound of the Arabian's Arabian trotting beside him has ceased. Twisting in his saddle, the Italian reins his horse to a stop. Disappeared. He takes his eyes off the man for two minutes and he disappears. Ezio curses in his native tongue and turns his horse around; trotting in the direction they had traveled from.

The brush around the road is too thick to ride in, the branches are too low and thick with leaves; someone could easily get knocked off their horse if they ventured far. Altair obviously didn't dismount or else he'd see the man's horse around here somewhere. Becoming nervous, Ezio spurs his steed into a canter. Soon he reaches the end of the small woods, met by the full glare of the sun as the road stretches into open fields once more. His hood keeps his eyes shielded by the sun's rays as he looks back and forth for his lost lover.

Finding no sign, Ezio closes his eyes, concentrating, all of his senses focused on finding the Arabian. Faintly he can hear something… possibly hooves on the soft grass beside the road. Ezio pulls the reins in his hands, barely touching them to make his black mount turn to its left, where he heard the sound. The Italian taps the horses belly with his heels and sends it into a trot again. The horse and rider move along the edge of the woods they just emerged from. Fields stretch to his right while the patch of trees at his left pushes him farther from the road.

Still nothing. Ezio stops his horse and brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This is bad. Maybe a guard got the Arabian and is questioning him or… The Italian shakes his head, wiping the thought away from his head. Altair wouldn't just wander off… would he? Of course he would if it was to mess with him.

Just as that thought comes to him he hears a rush and his horse suddenly shifts, tosses his head, and bucks slightly as the missing assassin vaults from behind, landing in a crouch on the rear of the thick skinned animal. Ezio turns in his saddle to find Altair's face just inches away from his, hood casting a dark shadow over his eyes; but Ezio is able to identify a definitely amused smirk on the scarred lips of the other assassin. The tan assassin lifts a limp hand and lightly taps a lazy finger to Ezio's heart, speaking lightheartedly, "I do believe you'd be dead now…"

The master assassin holds his unamused expression as he plainly states, "don't do that again, you had me scared…" The Arabian purses his lips and tilts his head slightly to the side, causing the shadow to tilt diagonally on his face just below his eyes. He leans forward as he purrs, "yeah, I know you were… I saw." Ezio's mouth twitches in a frown. Altair gives the other man a small smile and leans forward a little more and lightly kisses the Italian before leaning back.

As much as Ezio wants to stay upset, he can't seem to find much to stay angry at. That's why a smile creeps across his lips and he lets out a sigh; not one of those sighs of annoyance but rather one of those that people make when they're lovesick. He wraps an arm around the other man and pulls him close enough to touch foreheads with him. Altair's heat radiates onto his skin, warming his whole body. Ezio closes his brown eyes as he states, "I'm going to take you out tonight."

The Arabian's hum fills his ears, "oh? Is that so? What's the occasion?" The Mentor huffs at his lovers amused curiosity. He lets the man go and looks him in the eye as he smirks, "why must there be an occasion? It's been awhile since we've spent time together, just you and I." Altair searches through the dark shadow that covers the Italian's dark brown eyes, suspicious for some reason. Then he leans back as if he found what he was searching for. However the doubt in his voice proves otherwise, "do not forget what I told you last night…"

"That you love me, I know. You said that among other things last night…" The master assassin smiles a suggestive smile but Altair just frowns.

"That was this morning, asshole… I told you that I would get you back for what you did to me last night…" The Arabian glares from beneath his shadow as the Italian responds with a plain, "ooooh" before smirking, obviously not taking the threat to heart.

Honestly it's like Ezio doesn't even know him sometimes. When it comes to revenge, Altair takes his promises to heart. But he'll let the over confident Italian think what he wishes. For now.

Ezio starts to lean forward a bit, wanting another kiss, when his horse shifts from underneath him. Altair turns his head away, wondering what caused the commotion when his brown furred Arabian nudges Ezio's black steed; apparently she wants her rider back. Just before the Italian can get his kiss his lover jumps off of his horse and onto the impatient mare, sinking back into the saddle. The master assassin frowns and glares at the spirited brown horse and whispers sharply, "_Geloso…_" As if answering, the mare tosses her head and takes an aggressive nip to the rear of Ezio's horse, making the black beast hop and buck.

Altair laughs and maneuvers his mount toward the road again with Ezio reluctantly following. It only takes them about five minutes for the couple to reach the small village. Both men shield their eyes from the sun as they glance up at the tall thieves' tower. "Ezio! I wasn't expecting you here!" The pair of assassins look down to find the strong voice who called to the master assassin. A man stands a few paces away from the two. He wears a green-brown cowl over his head with a long cape that stops just below his knees in a similar color. His dark gold tunic is lined with a red the same color as the leaves during fall. The same color red covers the lengths of his muscular long legs. Altogether the man is well built and tough, someone you would probably want to avoid. That's if you saw him that is.

La Volpe, The Fox, is the leader of the thieves' guild. He is very elusive and, to many, is a myth. Yet he shows himself to Ezio as an ally against the Templar Knights. He now stares up at them with hardened eyes and a friendly grin as a greeting to both. Well, both out of respect. Truthfully he and Altair do not really get along. The Arabian has always shown him mocking disrespect; claiming that his thieving skills needed work or that he had done something wrong in what he does. Although La Volpe loves and treats Ezio as a leader and a brother, he kind of really hates Altair and will sometimes suggest to his Italian friend to keep the irritable man on a shorter leash or at least out of the thieves building where he could start potential fights.

So Ezio finds himself in an awkward position now as La Volpe gives him looks as if saying;_ why the hell did you bring that person here after I asked you not to?_ He tries to give the man an apologetic smile and a look to tell The Fox that he will explain later. Just as La Volpe nods a slow, annoyed nod reins are thrust into his face and a demanding voice assaults him, "can you take her to your stalls?" Altair's steely grey eyes blankly glare at the shorter man before he adds a little late, "please?" La Volpe gives the taller man a blank glare before calming himself down and attempts to give the Arabian another chance.

His dark eyes examine horse whose reins he holds, "I do not think that I have ever seen a horse like this before, how did you get this creature here to Italy?"

Altair lifts a suspicious brow at the hospitality shown before responding rather plainly, "it was a pain to get, but worth it."

Ezio grimaces at the vague and irritating response. As expected, The Fox gives up on being nice and, without another word, turns on his heel to lead the spirited horse toward the stalls. The Italian assassin groans and follows the man with his horse, tossing a glare at Altair as he passes and growls lowly, "behave!" The Arabian stares defiantly at his lover before also turning on his heel to turn toward the guild building.

Ezio shakes his head in disapproval and squeezes his horse forward to catch up with La Volpe. The assassin dismounts and walks up to his old friend who is tending to the unhappy Arabian. The mare tosses her head and twists in her attempt to escape the stranger who just took her away from her trusty rider. Ezio walks up just in time to see the wild Arabian stomp a heavy hoof on the thieves' toes. The master assassin sucks in a painful breath just at the sight. La Volpe holds in whatever excruciating pain he's feeling as his assassin friend kindly takes the mare off his hands, "I'm sorry… she's just as out of control as her master."

The Fox just nods as Ezio walks past with both horses, putting them in separate stalls. The thief watches in pained silence until he finally finds his voice, impressing Ezio as he speaks in his usual calm tone, "to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing the pair of you?" Ezio hears the hint of sarcasm in the man's voice but knows it's mostly directed toward Altair. However the head assassin answers the question seriously, wanting to explain the relatively unpleasant intrusion, "Altair got in a fight with one of the students and Machiavelli asked for me to do something about it, so I decided that we could give him a break and check on our allies at the same time."

La Volpe listens intently and nods at the end with a smile, "well it's nice to know we're thought about by our brother and leader." He glances to the ground and adds carefully, not wanting to upset the master assassin, "although, it does not surprise me that Altair got in a fight…" Ezio makes a face. Even if he agrees that Altair is a trouble maker with a quite bit of an attitude, he can't help but feel a little annoyed by the man's comment. With some of his own attitude, Ezio replies with a tone, "The student was asking for it… He's been causing me trouble for a while and unfortunately for him he got on Altair's nerves." The Fox, hearing the slight hostility in the Italian assassin's voice, raises his hands in his defense.

The Mentor snorts before turning to face the thieves' tower. His eyes scan the intricate building until his eyes rest on a brick and stone, fort-like attachment at the top. The look-out post is covered by a sturdy Renaissance style red-tile roof with a wooden extension offering archers to get a wide platform to guard the tower of any rival thieve guilds. The roof of the building looks to have a built ledge from bricks that extends past the main structure. Child-like curiosity drives him to climb the tower just to check out that space apart from the main building. With a distracted voice, Ezio dismisses himself semi-politely, "_scusi_…"

La Volpe raises a brow and glances up to his tower where his fellow Italian heads toward. He shakes his head slowly, glancing to the horses once more before wandering off to his domain to keep his men in line and perhaps warn them of the rather grumpy Arabian.

Meanwhile Ezio is starting his climb. He runs fast toward the wall, using his momentum to launch himself up the vertical surface and latch onto a handhold where he relies solely on his arms to hold his body weight. After sidling along the edge for a few feet he is finally offered a good foothold. He glances back at the relatively close ground filled with people, staring and gawking at the man climbing the tower in the center of their small uneventful town. He smiles at a young girl watching, causing her to blush, before moving up; easily finding solid enough surfaces to propel him forward toward the extruding ledge of the roof.

The skilled climber eventually pushes himself off of that wall to grab onto the wooden fence lining the edge to keep any late night lookouts out of trouble. He uses his tired muscles to pull himself up with a groan, clambering over the railing and onto his goal with a smile. He hums as he glances around. The look-out is covered by the usual red brick roof, supported by two stone pillars and a solid wall on one side of the four cornered structure. He knows the wall supports two chimneys that faithfully lead smoke from the busy kitchen, which feeds La Volpe's hard working and hungry men each night, to the cool crisp air.

The head Italians' clear, pleased eyes fall on the indent in the roof of the building covered in a thin layer of hay; the perfect place for someone to lounge while on a boring, uneventful shift of look-out. But Ezio finds one more addition to the comfortable space that just makes him smile: his lazy Arabian assassin.

Altair is stretched out with his hands clasped behind his head, resting on a rather thick spot of hay right next to the stone wall. One knee is bent as the comfy assassin snoozes, not knowing his partner is aware of his vulnerable position. Ezio licks his lips and casts a glance over his shoulder as if expecting someone to pull him away from this opportunity. He's delighted to see that no one is there, no one to stop him and make him do something he'd have to do when he'd rather be doing something else, no one to prevent him from loving the love of his life.

He steps as lightly as a cat toward the dozing Arabian. Holding his breath, he steps down to stand diagonal from his lover where he kneels at a crouch and slowly maneuvers to Altair's side. Slow breathing alerts the Mentor that the tan assassin is somewhere deep in the confines of his subconscious. Unfortunately for him, his little nap is about to be interrupted by an attention seeking Italian. Ezio, still in a crouch at the Arabian's side, shifts to his knees where he maps out a plan on what he wants to do. One idea seems to stand out in his mind sprouted by his constant desire to be around the heat of his tan assassin.

His arm reaches forward and carefully squeezes between the loose bedding of hay and Altair's shoulders. He leans over, knowing that the assassin is a pretty light sleeper and doesn't want the scar he'll get by surprising this man. He whispers quietly into the other's ear, "Stay still, _mi amore_…" He smiles when the sleepy Arabian grumbles silently. Ezio grunts as he lifts the muscular man's dead weight to sit up where he now quickly situates himself against the wall before slipping his leg to the other side of Altair and making himself comfortable against the cold surface. The tan assassin grumbles in protest at being disturbed which turns into a growl when Ezio pulls him close so that his back is pressed against the Italian's chest.

Ezio smiles warmly as his irritable Arabian lover leans a tired head on his shoulder. Heat seeps through the other assassins' robes warming the Italian's blood and making his nerves tingle. Not wanting to bother the assassin between his legs any more than necessary, Ezio carefully raises a knee so he can rest an outstretched arm on his leg. He stares into the sky, noticing the hint of orange cast in the light; pretty soon it will be dark and he'd have to go through with his pleasurable plan he had come up with earlier.

He realized that Altair really does need to be punished for fighting with a fellow member of the creed. So, he plans on giving his grumpy Arabian that punishment in the form of liquor. A smirk creeps upon his scarred lip as he reasons that no one likes a pulsing hangover in the morning. Not only that but any memory that Altair could pull up would be of him getting his pride striped away from him as he'd be at Ezio's mercy once again.

The master assassin grins to himself at the thought of having a drunken Altair in his company. Suddenly a drowsy mumble invades his eager mind, "Ezio…" The Italian blinks and tilts his head to look at the assassin on his shoulder. He freezes when warm lips make contact with his neck.

The Italian's brown eyes widen as he feels the lazy mouth lick and suck slowly. A long sigh escapes the head assassin as his body seems to sink into relaxation. The master assassin tilts his head to expose more skin to the tired man as he mumbles, "I hope you're ready for our date…" He holds in the moan caused by the vibrations a skeptical hum sends across the thin skin of his neck. Altair pauses in his treatment, "where are we going exactly?" Ezio stares out at the Roman scenery not having really thought about it. But since there is only one real place to eat in this small town he responds with some humor in his voice, "Here, we're going to eat at the Thieves Guild. I'm sure La Volpe would enjoy our company tonight."

The tan assassin stiffens but then starts to pull away from Ezio's lap. The head assassin whines as he hastily wraps his arms around the escaping man. Altair groans and snaps at the Italian, "I'd rather not eat with that man! He's below me…" Ezio frowns at the open cold heartedness of his lover. His arms tighten around the other assassins' chest to pull the man back against him. The Arabian wiggles in an attempt to escape again but sighs when the muscular arms don't let up. The Italian leans forward and grumbles sourly, "am I too below you to enjoy dinner with you as well?"

The great Mentor feels the other man sag in self-contempt. Altair closes his eyes and rests his head against Ezio, opening his eyes to stare at the sunset with a sigh, "no… of course not. You are not… _too_ below me." The Italian smiles at the comment before giving his partner a peck on the cheek, "as long as I'm not too inferior for my love." The Arabian smirks and tilts his head to bring his lips to his lover's jaw. The master assassins' eyes are closed and he moans quietly as the smoldering lips are moved against his skin to bring him sweet, torturous comfort.

Ezio brings up a lethargic hand to rub his partners' chest, creasing the fabric of the Arabian's foreign robes. He feels Altair's mouth tilt in a smile at the gentle massage. But then a deep voice awkwardly intrudes on the two, "excuse me Ezio? I… I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you two but I have something to ask you." Both assassins' stiffen in discomfort as they recognize the voice. Ezio's unusually cold eyes turn to meet La Volpe's dark eyes and give the man a strong glare for ruining the warm moment. The Fox looks away from the icy gaze as he struggles to continue, fumbling over his own words, "I-I'm terribly sorry. But I h-have come to ask t-the two of you to join me and my men f-for our evening meal."

Ezio looks down at Altair who shifts uneasily but then looks back up to the Italian thief, "we'd appreciate that, thank you for the invitation. When does dinner start?" La Volpe smiles, delighted to hear this. He looks down from where he just came up from, down a ladder that leads to the lower roof of the guild. Sound reverberates from the open hatch that leads to the wine cellar attached to the main dining area where his men are gathered and joined in noisy conversation. He turns back to the assassins and smiles widely, "it's already started. Come down when the both of you are… ready." He turns his head to the side in embarrassment as the two other men are back to kissing each other again.

Ezio looks up from his Arabian's hypnotizing eyes and does his best to relieve his mouth from his fellow assassin's in an attempt to respond to his ally. Altair persists as he presses his warm mouth against the Italian's while the man tries to talk, muffling his partner's speech, "Altair and I will be down soon." The Mentor holds back a groan as the Arabian presses him against the wall and latches a hot mouth to his throat. He struggles to keep his attention on La Volpe's awkward presence, "t-thank you, _mio amico._"

The Fox takes this as an invitation to leave without being rude so he simply nods and turns eagerly toward the ladder and steps down to freedom.

As soon as he disappears Ezio releases a deep, throaty groan and shudders under Altair's attention. Heat spreads from the mouth on his neck to throughout his body, making his limbs stiffen as his nerves are overwhelmed. The Mentor sighs when the Arabian stops the rough sucking and simply kisses him again with a slight whisper, "if we're going to eat with them then… you're going to have to distract me to keep me out of trouble." The head assassin looks into the distracted storms in front of him before glancing to the man's lips before responding just as distractedly, "there is no need to worry about that… I'm sure I can keep you out of trouble."

The tan assassin finally pulls away to give his partner a skeptical look, "oh, do you? I'm just as concerned about _you_ getting in trouble Ezio." The Italian lifts an interested brow but inwardly admits that he is just as likely to cause trouble; although he is less likely to start verbal fights as Altair is… he is more likely to start fist fights which could result in more trouble amongst the thieves.

Ezio closes brown eyes as the tan assassin sits up on his knees and leans down to kiss the Italian on the forehead. Altair slips a hand into the head assassin's hood to ruffle the man's hair playfully, "I'm going down to eat; I have yet to eat something today." The Mentor frowns as the Arabian escapes the warm embrace and starts to walk away toward the ledge opposite the wall they were both leaning against, a different ledge that The Fox just climbed down.

Altair turns to look at him and smile, "thank you for the time spent up here. I think I am finally getting used to your romantic habits." Ezio is about to smile and respond but then he rapidly stands from where he was sitting when Altair suddenly leans back over the edge of the tower to plummet down to the streets below. The master assassin scurries to peer over the ledge just in time to find his troublesome lover vaulting out of a wagon full of hay. The Italian releases his held breath and takes this moment to notice the familiar wooden beam that sticks out from the tower; a symbol of a place for assassins to perform a safe Leap of Faith dive.

Ezio shakes his head, wondering why he didn't just guess that the Arabian was preforming something that is only second nature to most assassins. The master assassin cringes as he answers his own question. The problem is that he has been having a reoccurring dream about the tanned man for the last couple of weeks. Ever since he had sent his partner on a particularly difficult assignment with a rookie and the two came back beaten up and bleeding. Although the mission was a success, Ezio has been obsessing over Altair's safety.

The dream does little to help with obsession when it goes even further and plays out the worst thing that could ever possibly happen to Ezio: the loss of his beloved assassin.

Every night the dream starts out the same; Ezio finds himself bent over the desk in his room working on confidential business when he would be interrupted by an urgent knock at his door. With a roll of his eyes and an exasperated, "what is it now?" The Italian would open the door to find the same rookie bend over with his hands on his knees. The blond haired teen would usually be bleeding from a wound on his forehead as he would pant and explain how he had; "lost master Altair in a fight with a Templar knight" The head assassin would frown upon the student for having lost track of the Arabian but they would explain the tanned man had sent them away because of the heightened danger.

The Mentor would then convince the younger student to calm down and expect the Arabian back soon enough… except the Arabian _wouldn't_ come back. The older students would start to become nervous as their Master would pace back and forth in front of the main doorway until finally he would set out to find his lover. Machiavelli would try to convince him that Altair was only taking longer because of his more relaxed pace but Ezio knows this isn't true.

So he would have the young student lead him to the spot the Arabian was last seen. The dream would then skip ahead to the spot in the middle of the Roman countryside where they would find the dead body of the large Templar Knight that Altair was said to have fought. They would see that the man's body had been cut and bruised but a serious stab wound would have been the cause of death. Ezio would notice a soft rain coming down at this point as he would notice the slight drag marks left by someone who was injured and left the scene of the fight. He always assumed that the marks were made by Altair until he would spot the steady drops of blood that traveled along with the drag marks.

At this point his heart was aching and he would have to force himself to follow the trail until he would spot the old, abandoned church in the middle of the countryside. Nothing but fields and the small dirt road would be visible amongst the church. Ezio would kick his horse to a full gallop until he was at the church doors, in which he would force open with a shove of his shoulder.

The dream would usually become suddenly and painfully clear as the doors of the old building would swing open. He would step in, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the church. A light patter of rain would have settled on the leaking roof as he would step in a little farther and look around carefully. Then, in the corner closest to the door, he would find what he was looking for. The image of his lover crumpled over in the corner of that dirty old church makes the Italian's heart wrench even when he isn't even in the dream.

But when he _is_ in the dream, the sad sight of Altair leaning against the moldy wooden walls of the building, bent in half with his robes soaking in his own blood, sends Ezio into a state of shock. The master assassin would run over to his dead lover and fall to his knees with a sob. He would wrap his arms around the battered Arabian, not caring about the blood that would seep into his robes, holding the man close as grief would wash over him. Ezio's vision in the dream would suddenly become blurry as tears would roll from his pain-filled eyes. He'd cry silently while the novice student was in still in the church until they would leave, his mind willing them to get out and far away.

Then, once he was alone, he would start to shudder violently and sob, pressing his face to Altairs'. But his dream wouldn't end there. No, he is usually forced to experience Altair's funeral and then participate in the ceremony. He would have to suffer through the mind numbing torture of having to lay his beloved assassin on a boat as he had to do with his father and brothers… and then set that vessel afire to send the Arabian to the next world. He would be surrounded by his fellow assassin but feel no presence as he would stare at the blaze lighting up the murky waters in the dark surroundings of the night. He would shrug off the comforting hands placed upon his shoulders and he would walk away into the night to wallow in his sorrow.

The dream would eventually end with him walking along the canal, following the burning boat on its way down the waterway, watching as ashes and cinders trail behind it until nothing would be left.

Ezio would wake up feeling empty and depressed with tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. But then that would be when he'd realize his lover is still alive, sleeping relatively peacefully next to him. Altair doesn't know of these dreams and hasn't really taken notice of how protective the Italian is being toward him. The only thing the Arabian would notice when he woke up would be the tight arms around him and a hard chest pressed to his back.

* * *

Ezio finds himself wanting to hold Altair in his arms now but alas cannot because he is busy clinging to a ladder on his way to the hatch to the wine cellar. Once on the roof, the Italian notices just how cold the air is in the darkening shadows. He hopes that he and Altair might be able to stay warm tonight. Truthfully he knows they will if his plan of getting the Arabian drunk goes well. With that in mind, the Mentor swings down into the wine cellar and proceeds to walk into the main dining area.

As soon as he walks into the building Ezio is hit by a musky wall paired with thunderous voices. The room is filled with thieves, yelling, laughing, singing, eating and drinking; some even flirting with prostitutes. The thick scent of sweat, alcohol and sweet smell of meat roasting above a fire hangs in the room like a heavy mist. The master assassin would normally wrinkle his nose at the stench but the feeling of unity and brotherhood is thick in the air, urging him to step in and join the group. In the center of all the activity is his lover, standing out in his white robes when he's surrounded by the greys and blacks of the thieves.

The Arabian's scarred lip twitches in irritation as men hang around his shoulders and talk loudly in his ears. Ezio smiles as Altair almost loses his temper with the noisy men around him, not that they would notice because the signs were so subtle: a tic of an eyebrow, a restrained glare and a tightened fist. But before the tanned assassin can lash out the master assassin comes to the rescue by distracting the men with several mugs of beer. Altair looks up to him from his seat at a wooden table in gratitude. He smiles and accepts the hand of assistance that Ezio offers him.

The Mentor pulls the Arabian to the bar as the men break into a drunken chorus. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the sea of noise, "would you like a drink_, bello_?" Altair takes an irritated glance over his shoulder to hope the men stop. He then looks to Ezio through the cowl of his robes and responds, sounding exasperated, "yes, please…"

The master assassin smiles as he waves over the bartender and leans over the counter so the rather large man can hear him, "give us a bottle of your finest wine." The man glances over to the Arabian assassin before nodding with a slight smirk and maneuvering to the wine cellar. As the man does this, the Italian assassin turns to his lover and hooks a finger on the tan assassins' chin, directing the man's gleaming silver eyes to meet his clear brown orbs. Altair frowns at the romantic gesture and shakes his head to rid himself of the hand. The tan man leans forward to growl into the Italian's ear, "you had your night, don't try to take advantage of me tonight because it won't work."

The Mentor blinks at the other man but then smirks and lifts a brow in amusement, "oh really?" As if on cue the bartender talks up with two large wine glasses and pours the couple a glass of blood red wine. Ezio glances at the label on the bottle and recognizes it as an expensive variety that he had seen his father enjoy when the man was in a particularly celebrative mood. The Italian assassin looks back to his tan lover and lifts his glass in a toast, clanking the glass against Altair's as he purrs smoothly, "to a normal date." The Arabian smiles and nods, lifting the wine glass to his mouth for a hearty drink.

The Italian watches with interest as his partner swallows and pulls the glass away from his mouth to stare at the red liquid with suspicion. Ezio becomes a little nervous as the man continues to stare at the drink and leans forward worriedly, "is there something wrong?"

The Arabian looks up to his partner and blinks before looking back to the wine with a shake of his head, "no… no it's fine. It's just… it's really good. I like it." Ezio's heart pounds inside his chest. This is going much better than he had planned.

The night goes by rather quickly for the pair of assassins. They enjoyed conversation along with a delicious meal of perfectly cooked steak accompanied by the apparently delicious alcohol. Ezio is careful not to drink too much, having to ignore his pallet and not enjoy the wine as his lover is. The Arabian can't seem to get enough of the liquid as he enjoys the atmosphere room and company of his partner. Eventually La Volpe is able to join the two and is surprised to find a fairly social Altair; alcohol having loosened the usually irritable man up. Ezio smiles as his friend and lover get along for once, laughing and talking.

But then the master thief is pulled away by his work and dismisses himself to leave the two assassins alone. Just in time too; because right after he leaves, Ezio experiences the effect of the alcohol on his lover that he has been waiting for.

Altair takes one more sip of the wine before setting it down and shuffling closer to Ezio. The Italian who was watching the thieves dance and sing catches the movement in the corner of his eyes in time to catch the tipsy Arabian as the man leans into him. The master assassin blinks down at his partner as the man hums happily and grips at his robes. The Mentor rubs his fellow assassin's back as he asks worriedly, "Are you alright, Altair? Maybe we should go to bed if you're tired…" Ezio mentally smacks himself for ruining his own plan by getting Altair _too_ drunk. But then the tan assassin shakes his head and demonstrates unexpected grace as he slides off of his stool to stand very close to the Italian. Ezio blinks as he looks up into the shadow of his lover's hood. His blood chills when he identifies a devious smirk. He is thrown off guard when the Arabian places two warm hands on his cheeks and whispers with a lusty undertone, "bed sounds nice… but not for sleep…"

Ezio finds his heart pounding in his chest as Altair presses a suggestive hand between his legs. The Italian glares up at his lover when the Arabian gives him a teasing stroke. The master assassin swats the man's hand away before standing and grabbing Altair's hand, dragging the man toward the wine cellar.

He doesn't make it much past the doorway before the particularly friendly Altair pulls his hand back. Ezio turns to face the man in question and finds the tan assassin glancing back at the room of thieves before turning back to the Italian and approaching in a slow, hypnotizing prowl that makes the great Mentor back up in wonder. Altair smiles at the master assassins' unintentional retreat but then picks up the pace and, in a fast movement, slams Ezio to the cold brick wall. The Italian grunts as he hits the wall but that is quickly silenced by Altair's lustful hum. The head assassin shudders in pleasure as his partner nuzzles his neck all the while dragging heated hands across his chest, rubbing comfortingly across the broad surface; especially the bit exposed by his open shirt (of doom).

The Italian watches with very interested eyes as the tan assassin wags his hips back and forth in a sensual movement. Suddenly smoldering lips are touched to his throat, purring sexually, "mmm Ezio… you smell… so good." Liquor drowned lips hover oh so tantalizingly close to his skin, slowly traveling up and along his jaw.

The low light of the torches placed along the cellar walls glows on the drunken assassin's hood. Ezio sucks in a breath as silver eyes finally peek out from the concealment of the shadow cast over them by that pesky hood; grey storms reflecting a mixture of lust, need, and potent seduction. The poor Italian is under the spell of his lover's eyes. Ezio winces as Altair presses against him, and, his already throbbing erection. Tonight _is_ going to be a good night.

The Master assassin gasps as the heated body against his presses even more before it starts to wiggle against him, grinding him slowly and oh so pleasantly into the wall. A breathy chuckle is able to sneak through the heavy mist surrounding his mind, "Don't get too overwhelmed… _Master_" Altair's voice drops to a low, husky growl at the end of his sentence; which drives Ezio completely insane. The Arabian picks up on this and makes his move with a moan, slipping his arms around the head assassin's shoulders while lifting a leg to hook onto the Italian's hip.

Blinded with desire, Ezio groans and scoops the lusty assassin in his arms, holding the man as legs wrap around his waist. Altair cups his hands to Ezio's face with a smile before the sexually frustrated Italian connects their mouths with a snarl. The drunken assassin pulls off the master assassin's hood and tugs on the man's long hair as his mouth is violated by an aggressive tongue. Ezio shifts his position on Altair's legs, bouncing the man on his knee to grab the other man's ass.

The Arabian tilts his head up, separating from Ezio's hungry tongue to groan seductively, "Ezio…!" The Italian grins happily up at the obviously horny assassin as he squeezes the man's ass. Altair's legs and arms tighten around his lover, squirming against the hands. His breathing picks up as he arches his back before shaking his head and leaning forward again so his forehead presses into Ezio's, pleading with his moist lips, "Ezio… Fuck me _now_." The master assassin grips harder at the needy voice practically begging him for pleasure.

However the Italian refrains from complying, finding a wine cellar less then romantic for such an act. He smiles and takes the Arabian's lips with his for a short kiss, just long enough to hint what's to come. He leaves the tanned man short of breath and whispers affectionately, "I'd love to Altair, but… not here." Before the agitated Arabian can complain or seduce him anymore Ezio whispers suggestively, "but I have a place in mind, _mi amore_."

With the man still in his arms, Ezio continues through the cellar, up the small flight of stairs that lead to the hatch; although with some trouble since the drunken Arabian is laying kiss upon sloppy kiss on him. The Italian almost gives in on that short staircase when the tan assassin latches sharp canine teeth onto his ear and starts to shift from a painful bite to a playful nibble; which gains a rather energetic groan from the master assassin. Eventually he reaches the top of the stairs where the hatch leading to the roof is still open from before, wondering how such a small staircase can cause him so much trouble. By now Ezio's breathing is a little labored from the effort of carrying the heavy muscle mass of his Arabian lover; so the cold, crisp night air is a welcome sensation to his overheating body.

Altair whines when his Italian eases him to stand on his own two feet. But then he blinks skeptically when the man points firmly up the ladder leading to the top of the tall tower they were on before. The Arabian looks up the ladder then to his eager lover before slurring in drunken speech, "Do you really think I should climb when I'm so incredibly intoxicated?" He leans into Ezio again and licks his own lips as he stares at the other man's mouth. The Italian shivers when teasing fingertips brush against his pants.

"J-just… be c-careful… _oooh Dio_… Don't stop Altair…" He grips the Arabian's arm as it strokes between his legs seductively and moans openly when Altair brushes hot lips against his neck. But then he forces himself to move his hands onto the other man's shoulders before turning the drunken assassin toward the ladder and demands breathlessly, "get your damn ass up there, _immediatamente_." The other man hesitates but finally grips a ladder rung before climbing up. Ezio stays close just in case Altair's less than accurate sense of depth perception makes him slip and fall; and also because he is extremely impatient.

With only a few moments of trouble, Altair finds himself at the top of the ladder. He looks over his shoulder to Ezio and smiles when he sees that the man's eyes are glued to his butt. The mischievous Arabian wags his hips a little until Ezio growls, "stop teasing me and get up there so I can fuck you senseless."

A sly grin creeps up the tan assassin's lips as he hums, "oh? That sounds oddly familiar… you must enjoy the times when you can take advantage of me… since it doesn't happen very often."

Ezio meets the other assassin's taunting grey storms with a frown but replies smoothly, "_Si, _I absolutely love it when you submit yourself to me." He smirks at the slight color on his lover's cheeks and sighs in relief when the tantalizing assassin finally climbs onto the tower. The Italian gets up to the top in time to see Altair fall into the comfortable pile of thick hay with a murmur of happiness.

There is the light rustling of metal and fabric as Ezio starts to undo his belt and sash all the while staring down at the drunken body of his lover sprawled out on a comfortable surface practically squirming with tension. Although he enjoys the attention that he's getting from those hungry silver eyes watching his every movement impatiently, he can't wait any longer either. Instead of undressing completely, he just rids himself of his weapons and accessories except for the beaded necklace around his already bruised neck. He unbuttons his shirts since the rather feisty Arabian is still armed and able to tear off his shirts.

Once he's pretty much undressed and his body is vulnerable does he finally join his aggravated lover in the hay, crawling on top of the other man in sensual movements. Altair drags his blurry eyes across the Italian's body before diving in. Before Ezio can even comment on how attractive the Arabian looks in the moonlight (to be his usual romantic self of course) he groans at the delectable mouth on his, apparently, equally appetizing throat. The master assassin holds the man up by wrapping his arms around Altair's back. Ezio hums as the tan assassin adds to the marks he had made before. But then he grumbles a weak warning, "don't make anything too obvious… we've still got to visit Claudia and _madre_ tomorrow… you know how they feel about our relationship."

Not so shy arms slither into his unbuttoned shirts curl onto his smooth back as lips smirk against his prickling skin, "what will you do to me if I disobey, _Master_?" Ezio smiles and slides a hand down the Arabian's back to slip into the man's robes only to tug on the drunken assassin's pants suggestively, "I won't go any farther then this…" The arms on the Italian's back tighten as Altair pulls himself closer with a whine, voicing his opposition.

Ezio closes his eyes as the tanned assassin arches his body into him. A hot mouth moans enticingly as erections are rubbed and friction is built, heads tilt back and breathe is lost. The master assassin loses himself in the Arabian's heat as if a thick blanket of steam has fallen on him. He groans as his arms give out and he falls, pressing his mouth into Altair's, devouring the pleasured groan emitted by his drunken assassin. Altair squirms as the Italian presses into him then suddenly he gasps as a hand grabs between his legs. He thrashes as the hand continuously kneads rubs and strokes his pants roughly but Ezio is able to pin down his mouth to ruthlessly assault his vociferous mouth.

The Italian stops his treatment when Altair pulls away from him suddenly. He sits up and looks down to his drunken lover with lust-blurred eyes in worry when the body beneath him starts to shudder. He breathes hard from lack of air but manages to huff at his partner, "w-what's wrong…?"

Ezio's hazy eyes finally focus on the Arabian's face to find that the man has his silver eyes and jaw clenched shut. The tanned assassin is breathing hard from all the torture his Italian was giving him. Eventually an eye opens and silver glints up at the master assassin as it reflects the bright moonlight. Ezio has to hold his breath and ignores his already air deprived lungs screaming at him when Altair turns toward him, white hood sliding sensually off his head; opening the other eye to stare at the Italian with lust-filled storms.

The head assassin feels his heart skip a few beats at the sight of his usually so irritable assassin look so sexy. It's a moment he will always carry with him.

But then Altair smiles, making the image all the more beautiful… until he ruins it by stating bluntly, "I almost stabbed you… on accident of course." Ezio blinks at his lover then to the hidden blade armed wrist. His hand travels back to between Altair's legs and squeezes, making the Arabian gasp and arch his back. Sure enough, the tanned assassin tenses his arm causing the blade to emerge from its comfortable sheath. That would explain the sudden withdrawal earlier.

Ezio stops his treatment once more, smiling at the groan of disappointment. He starts to unbuckle the blade when it retracts, "I'd rather not get another scar, thanks." Altair huffs, not liking the pause in their fun, and turns his head away from the Italian.

After a few minutes of boring disarming, Altair is stripped of all his weapons and boots, irritated that Ezio isn't giving him attention; but then fingers tugging at his pants make his eyes widen with sudden interest, looking down to the Italian at his hips. The master assassin pulls the obnoxious fabric down his partner's muscular legs until the Arabian starts to kick the lengths off, almost striking the Italian in the face.

Ezio just barely dodges a foot to the head, sitting up and out of the way as pants are kicked over his head. He glares at his fellow assassin and snaps, "hey! Watch where you kic-" Before he can finish, Altair forcefully shoves him to the hay with a vicious growl, "I'm _done_ waiting!" A second later there's a mouth on his, forcing his lips apart with a demanding tongue. The Arabian pushes him down so that he's lying down for the most part; but the stone wall containing the Thieves' Guild chimneys is at his back.

A lusty moan escapes the strung out assassin kissing the pleasantly shocked Italian. Altair's hips thrust up against Ezio desperately as the kiss is an immediate explosion of passion. The Italian's mind is shrouded in a thick haze of pleasure as the rushed thrusts become slow and intimate grinds. Then the Arabian, fed up with waiting any longer for his reward for getting drunk starts to move down. An unarmed, four-fingered hand clutches the silky shirts of the master assassin as a hot mouth trails seductive kisses down the man's exposed chest to the rim of his pants.

The drunken Arabian brings both hands to grip the edges of the now tense Italian's pants. But before he reveals the organ of his desires, Altair teasingly presses his lips to the fabric against the all too obvious bulge in his partner's pants. Ezio sucks in an excited breath, letting out a small moan at the kiss on his eager member. The tanned assassin looks up into his lover's foggy brown eyes with his mouth still pressing firmly against the fabric. Altair smirks as he lifts his mouth and purrs, "You are such a whore, Ezio…"

The Italian raises a brow as his pants are pulled down and off of him sharing a similar smirk as he replies, "I'm not the one about to suck a dick, my friend." His eyes are forcefully closed by a strong wave of ecstasy when a mouth indeed closes around his stiff member. A long breath is released as that mouth sinks down on him and a hungry tongue rubs against the sensitive surface. Ezio hesitantly shifts so that his back rests against the cold stone wall, earning an annoyed glare from his drunken Arabian who views the move as an attempt at escape.

Altair suddenly engulfs the rather large appendage, almost gagging as Ezio's hips buck at the sensation of a throat contracting around an already aroused organ. The master Italian's back arches when teeth scrape against his sensitive flesh when the abnormally hot mouth rises up to suck on his tip, forcing a groan out of him. Altair pulls his mouth away with a sting of saliva and a little pre-cum connected to the attentive member. He licks his lips and looks up to Ezio who is pretty disappointed the he stopped until he hums seductively, "I'm not going to continue if you do not provide some encouragement… _Master…_"

The head assassin smiles and lifts a hand to the back of the intoxicated assassin's head, running his fingers through the man's short brown hair. The Arabian lifts a brow of suspicion but is still caught off guard when that affectionate hand suddenly shoves his head down into his lover's greedy crotch, getting a face full of the man's cock. Ezio's head tilts back as Altair's hair brushes against his happy member. His thumb strokes his lover's hair as the other man struggles fruitlessly against his hold; glad that Altair is too disoriented by the alcohol to put up a good fight.

When the tanned assassin finally stops resisting, calmed by the friendly thumb at the back of his head, Ezio gently guides the smoldering mouth to the tip of his all-too-eager-to-continue appendage. But then that hand holds Altair back so that the musky, seductive scent of his body controls the other man's senses. The Italian is happy to be the patient one for once as long as Altair is under the influence of alcohol. Smiling, the master assassin watches as the spirited Arabian stares at his member, pulling against his hand, until eventually the tanned assassin finally looks at him with frustration.

Ezio tilts his head and asks innocently, "want a taste?"

The other man wiggles in anticipation as he whines slightly, "yes… I want it…"

The Italian grins slyly as he gets payback for all the trouble Altair has ever caused him, "ask for it."

Even in his drunken state the other assassin hesitates and gives the Italian a nasty glare that would scare any other man to the point of tears. But then that glare lightens and the grey storms are cast downward as a frustrated voice answers reluctantly, "may I… please be made full… with your… sperm…?" The now embarrassment-flushed Arabian tugs against his lover's hand for emphasis, mouth open and ready to get what he wants.

Ezio, smiles at the other man's humiliation and complies without another word. Altair lets out a happy moan when his mouth is forced down upon the equally happy appendage. The Italian finally lets out more noise as the tanned assassin redoubles his efforts. Hands grip at the Mentors' parted shirts, clenching and unclenching as their owner's head is thrusted into and pumped up and down an insatiable dick.

The head assassin tilts his head back as he releases one loud groan after another, picking up the pace of his guiding and thrusting until finally his arm locks up on him, holding the Arabian's face against his musky crotch. He's teetering on the very edge of his climax, wanting to drag out the burning height of his pleasure as long as he can. That's when Altair opens his eyes in irritation that he has to wait an extra second for the warmth of delectable seed on his pallet; so, he releases a perfect moan so that the vibrations of his throat forcefully shove the Italian off the edge and into a blinding climax.

Ezio all but screams from overstimulation as his semen forces its way forward into the now pleased Arabian who emits yet another groan that sends the Italian over the edge again. Normally Ezio would be celebrating in the fact that he was able to even _get_ a blow job from his prideful partner but the poor head assassin's over excessive orgasm lasts longer then he would have wanted it to, leaving him in a limp daze as Altair calmly licks his own lips in satisfaction, smiling at the unfocused look in Ezio's eyes. The seductive Arabian crawls onto the breathless Italian as he states rather simply, "I think you woke up the whole Roman countryside, Ezio." He sounds slightly congratulatory but then continues in a gruff whisper as he shifts his hips, "but do not worry, this only means that we can be as loud as we want now." The unresponsive master assassin finally responds with a slight twitch of an eyebrow. Brown eyes move to meet Altair's silver orbs but without focus as if Ezio has suddenly gone blind.

The Arabian, although eager to continue, allows his lover to regain himself, only showering the man with light kisses with his moist lips until he gets a response. After a few moments Ezio utters a groan and lifts his hands to hold the abnormally gentle assassin's face as he kisses back. The tan assassin tilts his lips up in a smile but pulls away to murmur lustfully, "I'm not full yet…" The master assassin moves his now clear eyes to meet Altair's. He doesn't expect his body to be up for anything more after such a strong climax but then he proves himself wrong when he releases a lusty moan as fingers lightly stroke his member.

The drunken assassin laughs as he comments, "you've always been fast at recovery… except for last night… I was disappointed." Ezio frowns at his partner's words, knowing they aren't true; at least he really hopes they aren't true. To be disappointing to Altair means to be unnecessary and not worth the Arabian's time. Ezio shudders at the thought of their partnership ending with him being ignored and pushed away by the love of his life. The master assassin finds himself wishing he had taken Altair out on a romantic date… not to some pub whose only purpose was to get the Arabian drunk and horny. What he wouldn't give to have his sensible assassin back to cuddle and flatter only to have his comments thrown lovingly back into his face by some sharp insult. But eventually those complements and kisses would be returned as they always are and maybe Altair would even let him be the dominate in a round of sex, if he asked correctly.

The suddenly lonely Mentor is ripped away from his fantasies as his drunken lover swiftly crashes down onto his eager member, stopping only when their hips are joined. Ezio tosses his head back with a surprised groan, hitting his head against the hard stone wall behind him in the process; a bruise that he will probably only realize he has when he wakes up in the morning. Altair moans sexually as he clutches at his partner's parted robes. The Italian lets out a shaky exhale and stiffens when the Arabian wiggles in his lap. The tan assassin starts impatiently, lifting himself up the length of the pleasured flesh only to fall again in an easy motion.

Although Ezio would rather have a sober Altair riding him, he can't help but shudder and groan as he's stroked at a constant rhythm. The Arabian hums in pleasure as leans in to keep his partner's mouth busy with seductive kisses that could easily turn their slow movements into a passionate fight with one flick of an expert tongue. The relaxed sun tanned assassin suddenly leans back as he sinks down into Ezio's lap, causing the master assassin's back to arch with a moan.

The Arabian allows his fellow assassin to get breath back before moving his hands to the edges of his own robes. Ezio pants hard from the sensation of being inside the hot assassin and grinds his teeth when the man shifts seductive hips to rub against his thighs. But then his eyes are glued as Altair starts to ascend again, this time lifting the tight fit robes with the same speed to reveal desirable muscles. The white fabric clings to the heated flesh and Altair finds himself struggling to pull all of the clothing off. But he seems to be able to hide his stress from the master assassin who only sees the beautiful picture before him; a hot Arabian riding an overjoyed dick all the while stripping stubborn cloth from his tantalizing body.

The sweat drenched skin shimmers in the bright moonlight as Altair is able to wiggle off the rest of the greedy robes, tossing them to the rest of the forgotten articles of clothing. Now that he is free of any binding, the Arabian picks up the pace of his movements; bringing his partner out of a visual-overstimulated trance with a moan. The tan assassin chuckles breathlessly while he rubs his hands along the Italian's chest, making the man arch and moan with the mixture of comforting and rough treatment.

Ezio forces his eyes open to watch as his lover willingly fuck himself on his stiff member. He watches as visible clouds of steam roll off of Altair's shoulders; thanks to the alcohol in the man's body raising the blood in his body closer to his already heated body paired with the freezing air of the Roman countryside. The master assassin raises stiff arms to hold his partner's hips, willing the man to slow to a more sensual pace that would return the moment to a more romantic one. But Altair simply frowns and fights his partner's desired pace by slamming down on the Italian once more, causing the man to almost shout out at the force.

But then the Arabian starts to shift and twist in the Mentor's lap, in his attempt to find something. Ezio groans as the flesh vice clenches around him in an attempt to adjust to all the moving around. Suddenly the drunken assassin tilts his head back with a slight whimper as the Italian's penis hits what he was looking for. Ezio leans in to capture the exposed throat just as Altair starts to lift up again. He sucks and licks and is happy to move on to his lovers mouth when the Arabian growls and grabs his head with sweaty hands to mash their lips together. Just as the tan assassin opens his mouth for the seductive tongue, he crashes down on the needy cock once more. This time the happy dick collides with his unsatisfied prostate so hard that he has to use Ezio's mouth to muffle his shout of ecstasy.

His own unattended member spurts pre-cum in a small, mini-orgasm that sends his body into convolutions. The master assassin groans as the purely liquid hits his partially exposed chest, somewhat happy that something of his could cause this much of a reaction from his usually cold hearted assassin. His arms come to wrap around the shuddering Arabian as he continues to invade the man's mouth. Having had forgotten about his wish for a sober Altair, Ezio finally starts to contribute to their act, slowly pumping his hips up and down into the shaken assassin; acting as a piston to hit the other man's prostate with each thrust.

Altair's arms wrap tightly around his shoulders as he moans, groans, grunts, and best of all, whimpers inside the Italian's mouth. Eventually he can't go without air any longer and throws back his head, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw while releasing a withdrawn moan. He pants as Ezio picks up the pace; since his own pre-cum is leaking down the pulsing member onto the Italian's lap at a steady rate, said Italian figures that they both don't have much longer.

But Ezio doesn't want to go quietly… no he want's Altair to remember this night through the drunken haze. So, he suddenly thrusts up with a grunt while hands that grip the Arabian's hips bring the man down. The tan assassin responds with another mini-orgasm and a yell of pleasure as his back arches dramatically enough to force Ezio to hold on to him. The master assassin thrusts just as hard over and over again blinding his partner with ever rough stab of the prostate until the man's voice goes hoarse. If anyone was able to go to sleep between the time of Ezio's mind blowing orgasm to now, then they have been awoken once more with no hope of getting any sleep tonight.

Finally, after several more violent thrust's, Altair's voice comes back as he moans loud and long through the smile on his lips as the final slam on his prostate brings him to his climax. His seed joins the rest of its brethren on Ezio's robes and chest. Meanwhile, while the Arabian covers him with even more potentially delicious liquid, Ezio is driven over the cliff of euphoria as the hot walls around his cock squeeze and hug him oh so lovingly. His hands hold his lover's hips tight as his member twitches and empties it's held out orgasm within the man he loves. Ezio continues his thrusts as the surprisingly large amount of left over sperm fills the drunken Arabian's cavern to the brim, although in a slower and gentler motion then before; excess seed simply leaks out of the abused hole to join Altair's contribution on his lap.

The tan assassin falls onto the Italian's chest, ignoring the fact that has now smeared his own stomach with his own sperm. He shakes slightly as he pants breathlessly into Ezio's sweat-covered skin, smiling at the feeling of being full. The master assassin tries to regain his breath as well but manages to drape an arm over his fellow assassin's back. The two enjoy the afterglow of their wonderful round of sex until Altair tilts his head to the side in order to speak semi-clearly, "why did you go through the effort to get me drunk, Ezio?"

The great Mentor blinks in surprise at the question and takes a few moments to respond. He swipes a hand over his brow to rid himself of clinging sweat as he answers confusedly although truthfully, "I wanted to have sex with you… and to punish you for fighting with a member of the creed"

The Italian can hear the frown in the man's voice as Altair responds, "And how exactly is sex punishment for me?"

Now Ezio frowns, having been wondering this himself. But then he remembers how prideful his partner usually is and the hangover the man will undoubtedly have in the morning. He brings his hand up to stroke Altair's short brown hair, "I'm hoping you'll be able to remember this in the morning."

The two sit in relative silence as they try to regain their breath but then the Arabian brings his arms up to tighten around Ezio's back once more. He shifts where he sits with the Italian still buried deep within him and growls so seductively, his voice sets the master assassin's nerves on fire, "I'm not full enough yet." Before the Mentor can even react or brace himself the tan assassin leans back swiftly enough to pull his back away from the wall and on top of the horny assassin. Strong legs latch around his hips, connecting their hips again as he grunts from the sudden change of position; him with his hands pressed on either side of Altair's head while his knees buckle under the weight of supporting the drunken assassin.

Ezio groans lustfully as the legs around his waist tighten to push his member even deeper inside the Arabian. How can he resist such an invitation as that? So, the two assassin's continue for most of the night until Ezio is empty and Altair is thoroughly satisfied with all the sperm safely stored inside or on him.

The next morning Altair is awoken by the sounds of lively people shuffling through the courtyard beneath the tower. The Arabian growls an exhausted groan as he rolls onto his back. His eyes stare unadjusted at the brick roof above him as he lazily tries to remember what happened last night. All he seems to be able to pull up is memories of the bar with the thieve last night, sharing some drinks with his romantic Italian.

It takes him to notice how his legs are partially separated. He props himself up on his elbow to glance down to find that his hips are indeed joined with none other than the master assassin. It's not something he isn't used to by now; there have been plenty of other times when he's woken up to find that Ezio is still inside him after a long night of sex or more than usual visa-versa: him inside Ezio. But what really bothers him is that he finds himself unable to remember any of their activities last night. That is until he notices the hay from their makeshift bed stuck all over his body.

With lazy hands he pulls off a few stubborn straws only to find that they are glued to his body by his own dried up sperm. He blinks at the full extent of the mixture of hay and seed and finds that most of his chest and legs are covered. Then comes the mind splitting headache as if on cue. He groans loudly as his head pulses with pain he considers much worse than if someone were to stab him in the gut. He rolls on his back, bringing both hands to press against his clenched eyes in an attempt to ease the pain.

As if to make things worse, his stomach starts to disagree with him. Altair scrambles through the bed of hay, separating himself from Ezio, as he suddenly becomes sick. He rushes to the ledge of the tower where he painfully empties the contents of his stomach. It is, at this moment, when his memories decide to spring up in his mind. Images of last night in all their embarrassing glory add to his suffering. The Arabian's stomach wrenches again as the images come to an end, a memory of him pleading for Ezio to please him one last time only to be denied and offered a snuggle session instead.

A kind hand is pressed to his back as Altair spits whatever is left in his mouth. The hand rubs his back as he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand; since tears of pain from the stomach acid searing the soft tissue of his throat had collected in the corners of his eyes. He glares angrily down at the wall of the tower as Ezio attempts to sooth him. Suddenly the annoyed assassin brings up a hand which slams into the Italian's jaw. As the master assassin recoils, Altair snarls viciously, "you did this to me!" Almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth, the Arabian's head pounds from his own voice. He groans and brings his hands to his forehead again.

Ezio blinks worriedly as he watches his lover retreat back to the hay bed. Altair falls to a relatively untouched corner, stretching out on his back as he tries to quell the hangover hurricane running loose in his body. The pain the bright sun brings him forces him to shut his eyes and hide them behind his arm as the warmth of the light brings him a little comfort.

The Italian however wants to be that source of comfort. So, in his attempt to apologize/calm his partner, Ezio stalks over to the man quietly before crawling over the suffering Arabian. Altair shifts where he lies and grumbles a warning but Ezio ignores it as he lowers his head to kiss the grumpy assassin's bare chest. The tan assassin swats the warm mouth away from his chest with his free hand and growls lowly. The Italian grabs the other man's hand and pins it to the soft ground where he continues to kiss the Arabian's skin.

Altair grunts as he attempts to bring up a knee to separate himself from the bothersome mouth only to have his arm released and an Italian hand on his leg, stopping his movements. Ezio's mouth travels around across the warm skin while his hand starts to stroke the leg lovingly. Altair arches his back and groans, "leave me alone!" The master assassin's lips tilt to a smile and he continues. The tan assassin tosses and turns in an attempt to rid himself of the torturous affection but his partner doesn't stop.

Finally the Arabian stops struggling when Ezio reaches his stomach. Lips are pressed against his firm muscles but the warms they give reaches his stormy tummy, calming him slightly. Just as the master assassin is about to move on, Altair brings up his free hand to rest gently on the back of the Italian's head, holding the soothing mouth where it is. The Mentor looks up to his partner's face to find sharp silver eyes peeking out from under the arm shielding them from the sun.

The master assassin hums as his hand on Altair's leg travels to the inside of the man's leg trailing down until he hits his well-known mark. The Arabian growls but his back betrays his disagreement when it arches in pleasure. The tan assassin rumbles lowly, "Ezio… stop, I feel like shit. It's unfair…"

The Italian smirks and gives another kiss to his lover's upset stomach and purrs, "I'll be gentle, I promise." Silver eyes give him another glare before they are clenched shut as the master assassin starts one last, one-sided round of love making.

By the time they made it down to the bar, Altair's hangover has subsided but he is shrouded in an angry cloud thanks to Ezio's fun last night and this morning. Said Italian seems rather cheery when he pulls an awkward La Volpe to the side and announces, "We'll be leaving, thanks for having us." The thief can't seem to meet the master assassin's eyes as the noises from last night repeat like a broken record inside his head. But The Fox finally answers with a clear of his throat, "i-it was a pleasure having… the two of you." Ezio smiles at his ally kindly and shakes the man's hand.

Altair on the other hand destroys his friendly reputation he had built last night by shooting one of his infamous glares at The Fox when the man tries giving him a nice smile. Any bridge of friendship that may have been built while under the influence of alcohol has been incinerated as simply as that.

Ezio looks back from his position on his black steed to smile back at his partner who insists on walking for obvious reasons. The spirited mare walks with her head beside her beloved rider, nudging the sulking man with her snout. The hooded man sighs and brings his hand up to stroke the horses' cheek. Ezio's brown eyes catch the sunlight as jealousy kicks him in the heart again at the show of affection the beast gets and that he is denied. He turns back in his saddle and continues to ride the high of dominance despite being treated differently than an animal.

However, Ezio is unaware that Altair has had enough of being on the bottom for two nights in a row. Bottled up tension and anger fills him to the point of a _need_ for revenge. He plans on getting back at Ezio for everything. And he'll make sure to make the point to _not_ take advantage of him without expecting consequences.

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**Ok, I've got to say that alcohol in high amounts is _not_ good for you! I am not supporting the over excessive drinking of it. Oh, and don't drink and drive :/**

**Now that, that's over with! Review and berate me for not editing! point out some mistakes and your opinions lol. **

**I'm really sorry for not having enough coversations with Foxy! TwT**

**-WhiteWolf**


	3. Chapter 3: The Courtesans Guild Part 1

**IMPORTANT!**

**I know this is the same thing you've read before but this has been ADDED ON TO. **

**Yup! So all you have to do is find where you left off and read from there!**

**This is still part one of two however because this chapter is soooo long. I'll have part two up soon enough... I really hope.**

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The Courtesans Guild

Ezio shifts uncomfortably in his saddle when he continues to feel a cold pair of eyes on his back. Honestly he doesn't understand why Altair is so angry with him! Sure he kinda forced the man into having sex with him this morning despite the same man suffering from a hangover… He had made sure to be extra gentle and careful because of that fact!

The master assassin frowns at the bustling streets as he concludes that Altair should feel flattered for being treated so well after all the attitude he has to deal with every single day. Besides, anyone who gets to sleep with the magnificent Mentor of the Renaissance should feel lucky. The Italian's frown transforms into the smirk of one who has an inflated ego. But the icy glare on his back stabs a hole in his heart, deflating him as soon as he was starting to feel a little better. The depressed man looks down knowing that their relationship is nothing like that in the first place. He should have served Altair in anyway necessary to help… not fall victim to his own arousal. But he can't take back his actions now, that would only piss the other assassin off even more. So he continues on his steed with an invisible rain cloud above his head.

Altair on the other hand continues to walk at a fast enough pace to keep up with his sad lover on horseback. Said man turns in the saddle he's seated on with a nervous smile and calls back to him, "T-The building isn't too far from here… would you mind if I ride ahead to announce our arrival to Claudia?" The Arabian peeks from under his hood to make the other man shudder. Ezio tries again, desperate to explain himself even though he knows Altair couldn't care less about his departure, "y-you k-know how we Italian's are very family oriented… we always have to greet each other with hugs and kisses…"

The tan assassin's eyes turn to fire and his jaw clenches as if trying to hold back venomous words… and struggling with that task. Ezio swallows a lump in his throat uneasily and even a bit fearfully. He feels so despised right now that he wishes he could turn to ash just to avoid his lover's gaze. He nods slightly as if he needs to confirm his own words to himself before spurring his horse on to a trot, making his way through the busy crowds of the Roman city, leaving his Arabian to seethe in a dark gloom.

The tan assassin's Arabian mare tries again to cheer up her master with a soft whinny. The man looks up into the large dark brown eyes of the creature as she tosses her head and clicks her teeth. The unknown language seems to urge Altair to stop his sulking and smile or at least lose the unpleasant look in his eyes. The man seems to understand the beast however and smiles slightly when he lifts a hand to rub between her eyes, whispering words of gratitude in their native tongue.

Meanwhile Ezio strides toward the large building his family shamelessly run; the Rosa in Fiore, or the Courtesans' Guild. Although at first he really disagreed with the thought of his mother and sister working at a real whore house, he is a little more comfortable with the concept now that they are able to aid him with the war against the Templars; as long as _they_ are not participating in the acts that go on there. He's even proud to say that Claudia has been made an official part of the Creed, having had her ceremony not too long ago.

The building has at least two floors, excluding attics and storing space. The exterior is decorated with vines to accompany the beauty of the Renaissance architecture. It is rather large and the interior is decorated with red curtains and paint which glows in the candle light around the room. The lower level is designed more like a lounge, where the girls can chat and get to know their "customers". Couches line the walls, sitting underneath the pillar-supported hallways of the second level. A beautiful staircase welcomes all who enter, branching off into two separate sets of stairs to connect to the upper halls. Two women usually stand at the landing where the stairs split; tossing flower peddles into the air to decorate the red carpet which is draped along the marble steps.

At the bottom of the stairs, hugging close to the side is a standard desk accompanied by a few book cases. This is also where Claudia and Maria usually spend their time, sending groups of women to gather information, provide cover for other members of the creed, and pickpocket civilians to gain a little much needed florins. The second floor on the other hand is where the majority of the people hang around so that when the customers feel like moving on to 'other activities' the girls can pull them into one of the many beautifully decorated bedrooms. Each room has its own terrace that looks out over a river at the back of the building.

Not only that but, unknown to a lot of people, there are square balconies built into the roof of the building. Each flattened part of the roof is surrounded by low, stone railing for who knows what. There are at least three of such structures on top of the building.

Ezio likes to speculate that the girls use them to take a break from their job. Over the course of his career he has come to appreciate these women, not for their bodies but for the effort they give. He finds them reliable and admirable. He is among the few who realizes that giving your body for your job certainly isn't an easy thing to do. The girls seem to sense his understanding too, which is one of the many perks of visiting them. In fact, his chest swells to know that he is pretty popular amongst them. Every time he walks in he's greeted enthusiastically by the women; some who insist on giving him friendly hugs and playfully stealing from his wallet (for the money and the sexual tease since his wallet rests on his hip) while others wave calmly and gracefully from wherever they may be.

Which happens now as he walks in. He's greeted by excited cheers and laughter, "Ezio! He's returned!" The master assassin smiles as he follows the red carpet into the middle of the room where he is surrounded by enthusiastic voices. Woman on the top floor lean over the railing as he walks in, while the few near the door eagerly give him hugs (which displeases their customers _a lot_). Although he is happy for the attention, he scans the room quickly for his mother and sister. He spots them at their usual spot at the bottom of a lovely staircase which leads to the second floor. His sister leans over a desk with various papers and books scattered across it. A single candle flicks at the corner of the surface. His mother straitens herself from having been bent over looking at the same paper as she turns to meet warm eyes with her son.

The small crowd around the man separates as he steps forward toward his mother. He grins at her and says warmly; "_madre_, it's been too long!" He takes her hands in his and gently and leans forward to kiss her cheeks lightly. He leans back to find her smiling kindly at him. But her eyes, although warm and motherly, hold a certain distant quality in them. He struggles not to show his pain that he feels when the far-away gaze reminds him of the effect his father and brother's premature deaths had on his mother. He tears his eyes away from hers to look at his dear sister who seems completely focused on the sheet of paper in front of her; plans for the creed no doubt.

Ezio's mother scolds the younger girl in a soft yet somehow firm voice, "Claudia! Say hello to your brother. It has been awhile since we have been able to see each other." The younger sibling looks up to her older brother and makes a slight face of disapproval which makes his heart drop. But then a smile replaces the negative look and she travels around the desk to hug Ezio; which is when he notices with some stress that his younger sister has grown even more since the last time he'd seen her. Her movements are graceful and full of purpose even as she embraces him. Claudia has certainly grown up from the privileged young girl she used to be.

As her older brother, the master assassin finds it difficult to accept that she has grown up this much in a relatively short amount of time. He can't help but wonder where she'd be now if their life had gone on as it was supposed to, before all of this assassin business… before their lives were ruined. But what Claudia says next makes him wish he had never thought of this in the first place, "Where is your… _friend_, Altair?" That's right; if it weren't for all this assassin work he would never have met Altair.

Ezio shakes his head, clearing his mind. He pulls back from the hug and answers a little distractedly, "He's uh… Altair he's um… coming, I rode out ahead and got here first…" He looks into his sisters eyes as displeasure crosses her eyes.

See, when it first became apparent that he was in a relationship with the Arabian, his sister and mother took it as a shock. They had always pictured and planned for him to meet a woman he'd stay with and marry but when he showed interest in another man, they became appalled and a little disappointed in him; just as he felt repulsed by the idea of them working with prostitutes. But he got over that, as said earlier but they have yet to completely approve of Altair as Ezio's partner.

So now he finds himself frowning and defending his lover, "we can always leave now if you wish not to see us…"

Their mother elbow's Claudia's side and covers for the young woman's mistake, "no, no… it's just that the last time you two stayed here… you both destroyed the room you two were to sleep in." Ezio vaguely remembers this but Claudia steals his attention by continuing with a rather plain voice, "yes and we'd appreciate not having to repair for the costs of your damage _every_ time you two decide to spend the night."

The great Mentor finds himself smiling nervously for the second time today as he awkwardly shuffles his feet, "y-yes… of course. I am incredibly sorry about all the trouble we've caused… it won't happen again I promise." His younger sister frowns slightly as she doubts his words but shakes her head, dismissing the subject. She then looks over to the other side of the room and states with a little more emotion, "one of your students arrived this morning. Machiavelli wanted us to look at these plans" she looks over her shoulder to the maps on the desk before continuing, "We offered the young man to stay until we've looked over them. Why don't you have a talk with him? He's over there." She points to the other side of the room again and Ezio turns to follow her finger.

His brows arch when he recognizes the student as none other than the Assassino rank assassin who got in the fight with Altair. The young man has his arm draped over the shoulders of a busty young woman. He looks to be having a good time with his little break and hasn't seemed to notice Ezio's presence yet. The master assassin turns back to his sister with his brows still arched, "do you know this man's name?"

Claudia looks at him with mock disgust, "why Ezio, you don't even know the names of your students?" When he smirks and shrugs the young girls' mouth tilts in a friendly smile. She looks back to the younger man and hums in thought, "I think he said his name was Antonio." Ezio looks back over to his student with fading interest, but does as his sister suggests and strides over to the younger member of the Creed.

The master assassin happens to walk up to his apprentice while the young man is having a rather suggestive conversation with the pretty young woman. Antonio lifts a hand up to the young girl's cheek and brushes his fingers across her blushing skin as he smoothly comments, "you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sure I'd find you even more gorgeous with your clothes off…" The young girl looks to the side and giggles slightly but that's when Ezio clears his throat.

The young Assassino jumps at the sound of the familiar masculine voice and withdraws from the girl as he stutters, "M-Master Ezio!" He hastily bows his head in respect as the older Italian waves off the girl, giving her a few florins as she passes for having the patients to listen to his students' cliché compliments she's probably heard at least a thousand times in her life time. The Mentor simply raises a brow at his student and wonders plainly, "why exactly are you here… Antonio…? I hope it's strictly business and not for pleasure."

Antonio ignores the slight hesitance on his name and straightens to face his master. He quickly tries to get himself out of this seemingly bad situation, "I am only here to deliver some plans that Machiavelli wanted _madona_ Auditore to examine. She invited me to stay until she had finished looking them over so that I can bring the edited paper back to Machiavelli." Ezio nods as the high ranking assassin seems to stick with the story his sister had explained to him. Just as he's about to dismiss himself the door to the building is opened. He notices Antonio's eyes glance past him to whoever entered but then the young man stiffens and distinct anger crosses over the man's brownish-black eyes.

Ezio turns around and sees his Arabian lover being approached by several girls in a similar greeting he had been given. He turns back to face his student, wondering why Antonio would seem angry by Altair's arrival. Then it hits him. Ezio takes a sharp inhale as a sudden foreboding storm settles in the room; the two men absolutely hate each other and they're in the same enclosed space.

Meanwhile, the tan assassin is enjoying the swarm of girls giving him attention. He smiles and wraps an arm around one who snuggles up to his side in a friendly hug. But then he feels the sensation of sharp, hate-filled eyes on him and looks up to find the same student that he had a fight with at the Brotherhood compound. Ezio holds his breath as Altair tenses and shows every sign of aggression in his body language; the tightening of fists, the icy addition to the stormy eyes, and a clenched jaw. All these signs point to an inevitable confrontation between the two unfriendly men.

But then Altair's body completely shifts from one of aggression to relaxation. The master assassin however stiffens in discomfort, knowing something is wrong. The Arabian moves his eyes over to Claudia as he strides toward Ezio and the student and speaks loud enough so that the young woman can hear over the lighthearted instruments played by various musicians trying desperately to entertain the beautiful women, "Claudia, your girls are beautiful as usual. I am honestly impressed by your ability to run such a stressful business. It shows much dedication." His words are light hearted and sound surprisingly sincere. The girl is taken aback by the complement but blinks before smiling and responding with gratitude, "why thank you Altair. I try my best."

The Arabian nods from under his hood as his hand slides from the woman at his side, encouraging her to return to her job. She walks away as he comes to stand beside Ezio in front of the student with his eyes still trained on Claudia and shocks her again with a kind smile. But then his voice changes with an added edge to it, "I would like to contribute to your success, so, if I may ask, how much for this whore here?" The tan assassin points a lazy finger at the young Assassino while, at the end of his sentence, his voice and expression fall flat and mildly aggressive. Everything seems to quiet down. The music fades to a stop and the chatter around the room lowers to a whisper. The battle has started. Claudia can't respond because of the shock that grips her vocal cords. Ezio holds back a groan and keeps an eye on both of the men's blades.

Antonio seems just as shocked as Claudia until he attempts to correct his senior with a heated hiss, "I am no whore, _master_ Altair."

The Arabian turns cold, skeptical eyes down to the student, "you could have fooled me…"

The two assassins remind Ezio of two feral cats fighting amongst the dusty streets with their backs arched, tails standing on end as they spit and hiss at each other, just waiting for that one shove that will allow them to lunge at one another and claw each other's throats out. Normally he'd chuckle at that image but finds that laughing now would only end up making this confrontation a whole lot worse, considering that these two men are highly trained assassins and are indeed _not_ cats.

The Assassino grinds his teeth and clenches his fists, "a fool sees what he wishes…"

At this, Altair promptly pulls out one of his trusty throwing knives and flicks it so that the deadly blade passes dangerously close to the students' neck, slicing a part of the young man's hood. The knife makes a _thunk_ as it hits the wall behind the Assassino as the young assassin blinks and brings his hand up to feel his sliced hood. Ezio takes action while Antonio is stunned and Altair is straining to not pull out another blade to end the infuriating students' life. The master assassin shoves the young man back and grabs Altair's arms so that the tan man can no longer attack for the most part. Ezio meets the Arabian's fiery eyes and demands, "stand down, Altair!" When the man makes no attempt to relax, Ezio forces his partner to back up but encounters little resistance.

Once he's a relatively safe distance from Antonio, Altair looks directly into the Italian's eyes. The Mentor's breathe stills for a moment as those silver eyes show no rage, no hatred, just a small bit of frustration because of the Assassino's words. Somehow, sometime the tall Arabian calmed down from his earlier enraged state. Ezio's hands on Altair's arms become looser and the two share a calm moment for the first time today. But then the scolding voice of the master assassin's sister pulls them away from each other's eyes, grabbing both of their attention as she calls out, "Ezio! What did I tell you about damaging my building?" The master assassin, still limply holding onto Altair, turns to look over his shoulder to his younger sibling.

She, along with his mother and a few other women, stand around Antonio trying to calm him down and check his neck for any wound. Claudia stands with her hands resting on her hips as she glares angrily at her older brother and his partner, "and how can you just watch this happen? I really hope that our 'great and powerful Mentor' doesn't just let his…" she struggles but shakes her head as she forces herself to continue, "doesn't just let his lover run rampant and pick any fight he wants without any consequence! Ezio I've always thought you were better than that!" The poor Italian assassin feels pinned by the situation. He knows he should punish Altair for all the trouble he's caused. A real punishment not just damaged pride. Just as he's about to respond to his sister, he feels a slight tug as Altair slips out of his weak grasp.

Ezio turns in time to see the front door closing with his lover behind it. The master assassin takes a step forward, concerned about the tanned man, but then Claudia snaps at him, stopping him in his tracks, "Ezio! Come here right now!" Suddenly the door seems far away. Hesitantly, the assassin turns toward his sister and his student with a silent sigh. He walks forward and to Antonio who is shaking in both rage and fear. Ezio reflects how such a young man got so far in his rather vigorous training. Claudia, still angry, glares at him in disappointment but lowers her voice to sound more soothing as she whispers, "Ezio… you cannot allow Altair to continue picking fights… it makes you look bad as a leader… before he came along, you were…" she sighs and looks down, "you handled yourself better…"

The master assassin can't help himself from turning an infuriated glare to his sister. He lowers his voice as well so only she can hear his venomous words, "before him I was lost, reckless and not to mention destroyed by the death of our father and brothers. Without him I would have died from my arrogance… His arrival has only brought me strength and knowledge…" Claudia tightens her fist but turns her gaze away from her older brother. He turns to Antonio but withholds his anger toward the ranked assassin and struggles not to sound rushed as he'd rather be out looking for his beloved Arabian, "you have to excuse Altair this time… I encouraged him to drink past his limit last night and… he is suffering because of it… it is all my fault this happened."

The student looks up to his master as the man reaches forward to examine his neck. Ezio spots no cut buts asks out of courtesy, "are you hurt?" He knows Altair would never kill another creed member, especially now with all the trouble he's in but the man _would_ hurt someone, even a student under the creed if he felt it was justified. However, even though the Arabian may be a little lazy and temperamental doesn't mean he doesn't care for the creed, he was the Grand Master Assassin of his time period after all. Ezio spaces out for a moment, wondering what it would be like to go back and see Altair's home… to be surrounded by all of those wonderful smells he's come to love and the people his partner has been surrounded by all his life. Ezio wishes he could walk under the hot Middle Eastern sun his lover has enjoyed.

The master assassin is snapped from his fantasies once more by Antonio, "I feel fine, master… thank you for the concern…" The urge to find the Arabian returns and Ezio simply nods and says, "Good" before moving toward the door. He pulls open the door, ignoring his sister's warning to him and slips out into the courtyard his lover escaped to.

The master assassin is grateful for his hoods protection from the sun as the orb of gaseous fire beats down on Rome. The assassin feels the scorching heat radiating off the stone streets of the courtyard that stretches out in front of him. He quickly glances around the space where clusters of people chat and hang around. The master assassin quickly strides over to a group of courtesans and ignores their flirting as he asks hurriedly, "did you see a man that looks like me around here?" The four woman turn confused glances to each other until one speaks up with puzzlement in her voice, "we saw an attractive man walk that way." She points and elegant finger toward a narrow street between two buildings. Ezio looks in the direction of her gesture but finds her words too unspecific and tries to clarify, "He was tall, wore white robes?" The young woman nods and the assassin pays the group with a few florins for their help before jogging toward the street.

Thanks to Altair's irritability, the great Mentor knows that the man will most likely pick a fight with some guards who get on his nerves. So with this in mind, Ezio wanders the streets with his eyes and ears alert for any sounds that may give him any hints, sure he'd find his lover taunting some deserving knight in no time... But when he searches for about an hour and cannot hear or see his lover, even with Eagle Vision, anxiety starts to eat at the assassins' heart.

With every quick turn of his head and scan of the crowd an image from his nightmare flashes into his mind; Altair dead and covered in his own blood, crumpled in the corner of some abandoned, rain soaked church. But then the image morphs into a possible income of his situation now. Ezio winces every time his brown eyes happen to glance down an alleyway shrouded in shadows when a picture of his beloved Arabian beaten and gasping his last breathe without anyone to comfort him in his last hour sprouts in the poor Italian's head.

But then that horrible image disappears and he's lungs allow him to breathe again. As if the Gods show him mercy, Ezio hears the sound he has been hoping and dreading to hear; steel clashing and the stunned gasps of an amused crowd. The master assassin visibly perks up at the noise and sprints in its direction, shoving through people until a flash of white and red shows him what he's been looking for.

Altair twirls as a knight rushes him, dragging his one-of-a-kind sword across the reckless man's chest as he passes. Blood splatters onto the crowd, making a few people scream or back up in disgust as the guard drops to his knees holding his wound in a sad attempt to stop the scarlet liquid from leaking out of his chilling body. Ezio ignores the dying man as he sinks to the ground; instead the Italian's eyes are glued to the assassin that is separated from him by a collection of excited people, people he could easily shove out of the way.

Or so he thinks… Driven by desperation to protect his partner, Ezio tries to push through the noisy people but finds it difficult as they jostle and contract into a thick wall. Suddenly he's reminded of his father and brother's trial. The next guard raises a giant battle ax to his lover and his mind is sent back in time to the rickety gallows his family was forced to walk on before they hung at the end of three separate ropes digging into their necks until the oxygen in their bodies ran out. The Italian stands frozen as the trauma of that moment long ago returns. He watches in shocked silence as the fight between his lover and the brute continues; salt water starts to bubble, unnoticed, in the corners of his eyes.

Meanwhile, Altair feels dwarfed by the gigantic man wielding the terrifying ax standing in front of him. The huge Italian knight grumbles some dumb-voiced taunt that the Arabian can't even understand. Instead the tanned assassin simply rolls his angry grey eyes before lunging at the larger man's neck. The hulking giant stumbles back and swings his ax at the assassin. The blunt edge of the weapon slams into the smaller man and sends Altair sprawling to the ground. The crowd cringes as they swear they heard ribs crack or even break by the vicious blow but are then surprised to hear the Arabian simply cough and grunt as he tries to get his breath back.

The tanned assassin struggles to get up, feeling rushed by the looming shadow at his back and the heavy feet by his head. Altair glances up at the large knight to toss the man one of his infamous death glares. But then he spots the handle of a knife sticking out of the space between the man's helmet and chest armor. Blood streams out of the gap to drip down next to his head. Altair is able to scramble out of the way with his hand on his side just in time to avoid the heavy guard falling on him.

The Arabian's keen silver eyes scan the crowd quickly to spot his Italian lover… with tears streaking down from tortured brown eyes. Altair's heart wrenches at the uncharacteristic sight as worry for his partner seeps through his body but then a passing guard spots the massacre. He takes a step forward toward Ezio as the Italian does the same but then the swift knight shoves through the crowd armed with a sword pointed forward for a heartless, final stab.

Ezio's distressed heart beats a ragged warning as he sees the guard and his lover does not. As he watches the enemy start the thrust forward, the master assassin, overwhelmed by all this spontaneous emotional trauma, cries out a heart broken warning to his beloved, "Altair! Watch out!"

Altair is a second too late and only notices the sharpened blade when it makes contact with his unguarded body.

In panic, the great Mentor yells out in anguish, expecting the cold steel to cut right through the only body in the world which offers him any comfort in this suddenly lonely world. He closes his eyes and looks away in his pain, despite his need to watch after his lover. But he doesn't want to watch the inevitable sight; the look of shocked agony as an unfriendly sword passes through his chest and ends his life on the face of the Arabian.

When he expects the sound of a blade entering soft flesh he is met only with the unpleasant noise of steel scraping against steel. Brown eyes, blurred by involuntary tears, open in shock and look up to see the guards' sword veering off course as it screeches against the hardened armor the tan assassin has apparently been wearing. Although the knights' blade slices the Arabians' fine robes, he fails to put a scratch on his targets heated skin.

Altair smirks at the knights' visible shock as he sheathes his trusty sword and tenses his arm, summoning his well-used hidden blade. The guard stares into the assassin's silver storms and fear grips his heart in a cold embrace as the eyes reflect pure killer instinct. The Arabian forces the man to his knees with his free hand and lifts his blade arm up for the final blow. But Grand Master customs return to him out of habit and he starts to utter a prayer in Arabic before executing the man before the large crowd of people.

Ezio watches as his lover gently lays the guards' body down to the heated stones out of respect, closing the knights' eyes when the Italian thinks of how that man deserves to suffer for almost killing his partner.

Now that the knights, that were once fighting this particularly rambunctious man, are lying dead in the middle of the street, the crowd of blood splattered people seems to realize that they have no more protection. The two assassins' stand still staring at one another as the people panic and run away screaming various excuses for their escape. But as soon as the last person tramples off over the dead men the two lovers close the space between each other at the fastest walk they can muster, Ezio rubbing away the tears he just noticed while Altair drives forward with a slight limp in his walk.

The Arabian takes his hand off of his bruised side where the huge knight dented his armor with the gigantic battle ax to hold his Italian's face as tears stubbornly leak out of strong eyes; forming a kind of contradiction. The master assassin feels slightly self-conscious as the Arabian searches his face with worried storms while his cheeks are stroked by frantic thumbs. Altair opens his mouth to ask something but then closes it, glances over his shoulders at the gore around them before pulling Ezio down the street by the mans' flowing cape until he finds a dark and narrow side street where no group of guards will notice them. The master assassin grunts when he's forcefully shoved into the wall.

Altair's back to holding his face, trying to stop the leakage of salt water in his lover's captivating brown orbs as he whispers with concern, "Ezio, why are you upset? Is it because of me? If it is, I apologize for leaving! I was just so… angry with that damn kid!" The master assassin chuckles at this but shakes his head and looks into his fellow assassins' eyes. There is a silent standstill for a few seconds before the Italian throws his arms around the Arabians' neck, squeezing tightly, never wanting to let go. The tan assassin stares blankly at the brick wall in slight shock at the sudden embrace and emotion. Slowly Altair wraps his arms around his partner in an effort to comfort the obviously distressed man.

Ezio takes a moment before managing to choke out, "don't die. Never die. I couldn't do anything without you by my side." He shudders as another wave of shameful tears roll down his cheeks. He reflects on how the last time he had cried was after he had given his father and brothers a proper funeral. And now he finds himself shedding tears just at the mere thought of losing another loved one; tears he thought he had used up long ago.

Altair tries to tilt his head to get a look at his lovers' face but instead gets a face full of hood. He frowns and forcefully pulls the Italian off of him and pushes the distraught man to the wall again. He meets Ezio's confused and hurt eyes as he asks seriously, "what brought up all of this…?" The master assassin searches his partner's hardened eyes, trying desperately to find comfort but finds very little. His throat struggles to open and allow him to talk, forcing the couple into a tense silence.

But then Ezio is able to clear his throat and explain with little emotion in his strained voice, "I… I've been having this dream every night for the last few weeks… it starts, I send you and a _recluta_ on a mission… only the _studente_ returns… I find you in some abandoned cathedral… dead… stabbed in the… the gut in the corner… I have to bring you back to the Brotherhood where… where we perform a funeral… I set your body on fire and send you down the river..." Throughout his explanation, Ezio struggles to keep his voice even but then he chokes up again, gaining a little more emotion as he continues in his grief, "then just now, while you were fighting I was reminded of my brother and fathers' trial and how… and how that, without you I would be lost. Altair I cannot live without you!" Before he continues on his uncontrollable fit, his irritable Arabian cuts him off sharply, "Enough Ezio!"

The unhappy Italian blinks at his lover's sudden interruption but then his eyes widen as warm lips are pressed against his. The smoldering mouth moves hypnotically and lovingly against his. Altair, calm and sincere, eases his Italian by forcing the man to realize that he is _alive_ and not dead in some building in the middle of the Roman countryside with the best kiss Ezio has ever received.

The Arabians' method seems to work immediately as the master assassin's body relaxes on contact. Ezio's tears stop and the turbulence in his mind is stilled as Altair's warmth spreads throughout his body. He feels the soft mouth lifting from his and before he can bring his hands up to keep it on him, the heated lips tilt up to press under his eyes. Ezio leans back against the chilly wall while Altair lays kisses across his salt stained skin with care until the tan man moves a hot mouth back to his lips and massages with seeping adoration. Ezio moves his hands up to hold his partners' head where it is, wishing for this to continue forever.

But after a few more moments of this bliss Ezio releases his lover's face and opens his eyes to stare into Altair's no longer hardened eyes, which have morphed into a soft form rarely seen by anyone other than him. Those grey orbs watch as a four-fingered hand affectionately tugs on a loose strand of their partners' hair and a smile graces the Arabian's scarred lip as he hums, "if I knew you were this scared about me dying than I would have made that fight a lot more dramatic…" The great Mentor blinks in disbelief at the other mans' cruel humor and he shoves the other back with a snap, "_bastardo_!"

Altair laughs but then steps back up to the unsettled Italian, suddenly slamming his hands on either side of the man's head as he leans in close with silver eyes glued to the others lips. The master assassin draws in a ragged breath as the man whispers huskily, "but I suppose it was a good thing I put this armor on this morning… or else I _would_ be dead right now." But then those startling eyes lift to meet brown pools and the voice becomes painfully serious as the beloved Arabian continues, "Ezio… even if I _did_ die, you would have to live on, without me…"

Suddenly the Italian doesn't like where this conversation is going. He attempts to break the gaze with a shake of his head but Altair demands his attention with another slam of callused palms against the cold surface behind him and a snarl, "Ezio! _You are too important to die!_ You cannot let me hold you back… I have done my part; the world no longer needs me…" The master assassin's anguished eyes plead the man to stop but ends up closing them in realization that the tanned assassin's words are true… painfully true.

The Gods could easily dispatch the used assassin anytime they wish. In fact they were probably conspiring to get rid of him soon because of the need for the 'holy bloodline' to go on. Not that the pair of assassins are aware of this. For all they know, Ezio could have run into the woman he is required to sleep with in order continue the run of genes in his younger years of carelessness. So maybe Altair has a hope of surviving… but the fact still remains that he has finished his job on this earth.

But in this moment now, that stubborn Arabian proves his will to live and lowers his voice again as he presses his head affectionately against the saddened Italians' and he growls firmly, "but I am _not _dead now, Ezio. I will never leave you. Not on purpose." The tan assassin lowers his left hand down to grab the other assassin's left hand. He lifts the two hands up and directs Ezio's attention to their intertwined fingers by turning his head, forcing his partners to move along with him until their cheeks are pressed lightly together; the master assassins' skin flushes at the contact between them with a sigh.

Altair splays his fingers and Ezio does the same so that their palms are flat, facing them. The Arabian flexes his arm so that the blade on his wrist emerges and he explains softly, "as long as our two blades are joined in unity, we will always be here for each other, not to be separated by unfaithfulness… nor death." The master assassin blinks as he too tenses his arm so that his blade slides harmlessly out to join its partner. The two knives cross against each other comfortably.

Altair smiles slightly and relaxes his arm; sure his point has been made, the man pulls away and turns his head to stare at Ezio's stunned expression which is still glued to their joined hands. The Arabian's words echo through the Italian's overstressed brain and calm him so that he sighs again before meeting his lovers' caring eyes. Usually Ezio can best Altair at anything romantic but sometimes the tan assassin can surprise the master. Which explains the silence the couple experiences now until Altair seals the moment by bringing his free arm up to hold the Italian's face as he leans forward to lay one last reassuring kiss upon Ezio's lips.

The Mentor clenches his eyes shut as his arm relaxes, allowing him to freely squeeze the gloved hand of his lover. The two enjoy the warm moment for a few minutes, not going any farther then meaningful kisses shared between them. But then Altair has to ruin it again by pressing a firm hand to Ezio's chest, separating them while ignoring the Italian's groan of protest, "we should head back before Claudia gets any more upset. I'd rather not be disturbed by the girls she'll send after us. It's hard to get rid of them once they cling on." The Arabian smirks when his partner frowns but then nods.

They exit the narrow alleyway with short glances to check if any guards who happened to stumble on the bodies up the street are still searching for the killers. When they see no trouble, the couple shares one last look before separating, walking down the streets in different directions. Although the two are going to end up in the same place, they have to travel separately after an assassination for precautions' sake. As Ezio walks away from his cherished lover, he can't help but look back with an edge of worry returning. He turns back however, forcing himself to relax and allowing Altair's words to repeat in his head, "_I will never leave you…_" He knows the tan assassin will return to him safe and sound.

The sky is painted in bright oranges blended with shades of darkening pinks and purples as the sun ducks down under the horizon by the time Ezio returns to his sisters' bureau. The master assassin strolls in with confidence, expecting Claudia to yell at him for leaving so suddenly but instead finds her nowhere to be seen. He is kind of taken aback by the sudden increase in men thanks to the coming darkness, and romantic sunset.

He slides between bodies which surround the door in his attempt to get to some open space. Finally, after shoving and pushing his way through yet another crowd he finds himself in one of the alcoves beneath the hallway of the second floor beside one of the many couches around the room.

He spins around confused of how he got here when he was aiming for the stairs in the center of the room. He glares at the backs of the men and women around the room and waves a dismissive hand to the people before turning to the couch, hoping it is unoccupied. Instead he's surprised to find his mother sitting politely on this particular couch and can't help but chuckle at the look of annoyance on her face caused by all the noise.

Maria looks up to find her son taking a seat next to her and her irritation is replaced by motherly love, "_buona sera_, my son." Ezio smiles and takes his mother's hands in his as he replies warmly, "_buona sera_, _madre_." The two Auditore sit in a peaceful silence as they observe the people who converse around them.

Eventually that silence is broken by the older woman as she asks politely, "I assume you found Altair. Is he alright?" The assassin nods and turns his head to meet his mother's brown eyes, "yes, I did find him. He was in a fight with some guards and took a few hits but he is alright. I am willing to guess that he is off getting his wounds checked now." The woman nods at his words and leads them into yet another moment of silence. The assassin takes this moment to glance around the room for the Assassino just in case there is a threat of another confrontation. But Antonio is nowhere in sight. The master assassin figures that Claudia must have finished up whatever edits she was making for Machiavelli and sent the troubled student on his way.

Which brings up his next question: "where is Claudia?" Maria frowns slightly at this in thought, as if wondering that herself. However, the mother responds with a knowledgeable quality, "She went off to the market to buy necessities for us and to go look for you two. She's upset with your irresponsibility…" Ezio flinches at his mother's scornful tone but knows she's right. It was unprofessional of him to leave his sister with _his_ problems, not to mention the stress of potential property damage. The older woman stops his daydream of the last time he and Altair had come over, when the two had a rather destructive confrontation that ended up costing Claudia enough to make a big enough dent in the Brotherhood's wallet that made even the bankers son wince.

Maria squeezes her son's hand, stopping his thoughts right as his eyes turn hazy at the bitter-sweet memories, gaining the easily distracted mans' attention, "Ezio, you mustn't put your lover before your business…"

The assassin makes a face as he bluntly asks, "that's funny I was taught to put the partner before everything else… at least that's what I remember all those years ago…" Maria can't help but laugh at her son's reference to her husbands' tendencies to put his family over any business he may have had. Ezio smiles as his lighthearted joke is laughed at rather than frowned upon.

The front door opens and the two Auditore are alerted by the sudden silence that spreads through the crowd. Ezio hears his mother's hushed, "_oh mio_" and leans over to peer around the curvy body of one of the girls with puzzlement in his eyes. But then his eyes widen at what he sees; a silver eyed Arabian demanding everyone's attention with his bare, muscular chest and his usual proud, confident stature.

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**I sure hope you guys get the email for whenever I change stuff :\**

**Anyway, here you go! The next part will contain the lemon and hot Alty action. **

**I hope the dream explanation part wasn't too sappy... but hey, Ezio is a little more emotional and besides, it shows how much he really cares. It takes a lot to make an assassin cry you know. *nods* mmhmmm.**

**So, yeah! Comment and tell me of any embarrassing typos cuz this is kinda sorta edited but some things still slip by. So yeah! I hope you enjoyed! ^^**

**Review for Altair fan-service! Or Ezio if you have a preference. But not Malik because he's a prick :D**


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